


It Lingers Too

by RiotFalling, WhiteIronWolf (adoctoraday)



Series: Bound To You [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Fingering, Anal Hook, Angst, Blow Jobs, Cockwarming, Come Marking, Deepthroating, Dom!Bucky Barnes, Dom/sub, Domspace, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of casual drug use, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Shibari, Sub!Tony Stark, Subspace, canon adjacent, chronic pain issues, gentle domination, horny disasters, important conversations about consent, softe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 38,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26724151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoctoraday/pseuds/WhiteIronWolf
Summary: Tony doesn’t really know what to do with himself when he doesn’t feeluseful,and he’s excited for the chance to finally prove to Bucky (and maybe himself) that hecanbe. Although it turns out to be in more ways than he expected and what do you know, maybe he’s notthe worstat comforting people.Bucky is...tired. Tired of the noise and smell and too loud hustle and bustle of the city, tired ofallof it. He wants to cry a little, wants toscreama little, but he buttons it up because at least he can look forward to finally getting Tony’s mouth on him. And Tony’s hugs. And justTony.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Bound To You [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806055
Comments: 139
Kudos: 397





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written by RiotFalling
> 
> [You can find me @riotwritesthings on Tumblr!](https://riotwritesthings.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

Tony gets a couple dirty looks from the legal team when he digs his phone out of his pocket and starts texting, but he’s been getting weird looks from everyone since the meeting began and he _really_ doesn’t care at this point.

He is much more concerned with at least _trying_ to keep his breathing under control as the bite marks on his ass _throb._

The beard burn and hickies have finally started to fade, the ache of them not nearly as overwhelming as it had been all weekend, but Tony has still spent the past hour trying not to squirm in his chair _too_ noticeably.

Best case scenario, everyone just thinks Tony is wildly over-caffeinated and _that’s_ the reason he’s slightly flushed as he shifts his weight in his seat again and types out a quick string of messages.

Snowflake   
  
**Monday** 10:13 AM    
Turns out, I DO have a very important meeting today    
I have almost squirmed right out of my chair like five times now and it’s ALL YOUR FAULT   
Fuck   
Aww, poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?    
👅 

The reply is almost immediate, and based on the sideways look Pepper shoots him the choked noise that rises in Tony’s chest isn’t quite as soft as he’d hoped.

He snaps his chin up, tries his best to pay attention, but all the speaker is doing is reading out loud a contract Tony has probably read three times over by now and it doesn’t take long for his attention to drift again. Especially because it’s kind of hard to hear anything over the way his pulse is pounding in his ears in time with the throbbing of the teeth marks at the top of his thigh.

Snowflake   
  
I think you know the answer is a baffled ‘kind of?!?’    
😂😉

The meeting seems to drag on endlessly.

Tony manages to stay just focused enough that he doesn’t end up with an awkward and untimely erection, even if he does spend a long couple minutes biting his lip against the urge to whine when he leans back in his chair and abruptly remembers that oh right, the hickey Bucky sucked deep into the skin of his hole is still dark and painful and _amazing._

It feels like it takes even longer for everyone to file out of the room once the meeting is over, and when it’s just him and Pepper left in the room Tony _finally_ lets himself drop his head down against the table with a low groan.

“Do I want to know?” Pepper asks as she loudly shuffles paperwork next to his ear, and Tony is _very_ sure she’s doing that on purpose.

“No,” Tony says with a snort. He shakes his head a little too, mostly because the table is cool and kind of nice as he rolls his flushed forehead across it.

The loud shuffle of papers stops, and Pepper’s voice is carefully neutral as she asks “Are you okay?”

“I’m _awesome,”_ Tony blurts before he can stop himself, and his huff of laughter is maybe a little hysterical, but he _is._

He spent the weekend sleeping like a baby and then waking up like a horny teenager because just-woke-up-Tony can never remember that sitting up abruptly is a _wonderfully horrible idea._ He hasn’t had a headache in _days,_ unless it’s the normal lack of sleep headache. Or the normal stress headache. Or the normal not enough/too much coffee headache.

The point is, Tony feels great. Better than he has in probably entirely too long, and if he just doesn’t let himself _think_ about anything too hard then everything is _fine._

“I’m also sore,” he adds, because he can feel Pepper still staring at the side of his face, and then laughs when she swats him on the back of the head with the papers in her hands.

“Ugh, I didn’t need to know that,” Pepper says as she pushes herself to her feet, but when Tony turns his head a little he absolutely catches sight of the small smile on her face as she adds “I’m glad you feel _‘awesome.’”_

“You’re just smug because this was all your idea in the first place,” Tony accuses, and then laughs when she affectionately swats him with the papers again instead of denying it.

* * *

It gets progressively harder not to let himself think about things as the week goes on.

Things like how long will it be before Pepper starts asking more questions, wanting to know more about his mysterious new dom, wanting to know _who,_ and what are the odds that happens _before_ Bucky gets bored with him and moves on?

On the one hand, it will certainly be convenient if none of Tony’s friends ever actually get a chance to question his life choices. Tony is pretty sure the fact that no one has actually said the words _‘really, Bucky Barnes?’_ out loud to him is the only thing that’s kept Tony from spiraling out about it himself.

Because there’s a whole list of reasons why this is a _terrible_ idea, why he and Bucky probably should have called the whole thing off when they realized that oh, the random internet stranger they matched with is not such a random stranger after all. Plus, there _has_ to be a limit to how long they can go without talking about any of the _multiple_ elephants in the room, and Tony really doesn’t want to find out where that breaking point is.

It would certainly make things easier, if Tony could just avoid the judgement and/or concern from his friends when they inevitably find out.

Which they _will,_ and it only gets more likely the longer this goes on. Rhodey might be busier than ever, but he still knows Tony better than anyone, which means he’s going to take one look at Tony’s face and _know_ that something is different. And after Tony’s history of shitty life choices when it comes to doms, Rhodey isn’t going to stop demanding answers in typical annoyingly amazing best friend fashion.

But on the _other_ hand, the thought of Bucky being done with him before Tony’s well-intentioned but nosy friends even become an issue makes something in Tony’s chest shrivel up ice cold and that’s just another thing he’s trying not to think too hard about.

Tony knows it’s going to happen of course, he’s just hoping that it’ll be... _eventually._ Not yet, not _soon,_ he’s not ready to give up the feeling he gets when he’s with Bucky, warm and floaty and _safe._ It’s a combination Tony has never felt before, and he’s very sure he never will after this.

He hadn’t been lying when he texted Bucky last Friday, he really is the best dom Tony’s ever had. Bucky is probably the best dom he’s ever _going_ to find, sweet and considerate and _so gentle_ even though Tony _knows_ how strong he is, confusing in the best possible way.

It’s kind of distressing that Bucky doesn’t seem to _realize_ how amazing he is, and Tony is still trying to figure out what to make of how genuinely concerned Bucky seems when he asks if he did okay. Bucky did say he hasn’t dommed anyone in eighty years, and while Tony can’t imagine what it feels like to not do something for _eighty years,_ he can’t help thinking there’s more to the story.

Not that he has any clue how to even _begin_ asking about it without bringing the carefully balanced card tower of things they _don’t talk about_ crashing down around them. He’d already almost ruined it last time, asking about Bucky’s arm and trying to force his help on someone who doesn’t want it. _Again._

Their arrangement absolutely has a time limit, especially because it was only ever supposed to be temporary in the first place.

Sooner or later Tony will say the wrong thing, or do the wrong thing, because that’s what he _does._ Eventually Bucky will figure out how amazing he is, that he can do way better, and he’ll go find a sub who’s _not_ a workaholic with wrinkles and a truckload of baggage that he carries everywhere, a sub who actually knows how to comfort and reassure someone. Bucky can go find someone that doesn’t undoubtedly remind him of all the shit he’s trying to leave behind.

It’s probably selfish of Tony to want to put that off for as long as possible, but he _does._ And he might even get the chance, because Tony is good with his mouth after all, and he _finally_ gets to make Bucky come. He finally has a way to make himself useful, to prove that he can do _something,_ and Tony is going to make this the best goddamn blowjob of his life if there’s even a chance he can convince Bucky to stick around a little longer.

He stays in the lab until well into the morning most days and then spends the rest of the night tossing and turning in his bed, strangely missing the ache and burn in his skin once it fades. It certainly made it easy to not think about anything else.

* * *

By Friday morning Tony has more or less managed to shove all his nerves and worries down again through sheer force of will. He’s done a pretty decent job of _not_ being a nervous mess the past two weeks, and he’s not going to ruin that now.

Tony has a plan.

He is going to prove that he can be useful, that he can be _good,_ he is going to let Bucky use his mouth however he damn well pleases because that is _so easy,_ and because _god_ Tony wants it. He wants to get his mouth on Bucky this time, wants to find out what Bucky’s groans sound like when they’re _not_ muffled into Tony’s skin, wants to be able to return even a _fraction_ of how amazing Bucky has made him feel so far.

As the day goes on anticipation starts building hot and inescapable in his gut. He keeps catching himself chewing on his lip, not accomplishing a single thing because he can’t stop daydreaming about kneeling for Bucky again, trying to imagine the weight of Bucky’s cock on his tongue, what he’ll sound like when Tony _finally_ gets to make him come.

He ends up spending several hours reorganizing his workshop, because there’s at least a _lower_ chance that he’ll blow something up by being so distracted. When he’s done he’s not actually sure where he ended up putting his favorite mini screwdriver set, but it’s fine, because it’s finally time to leave for the hotel.

Finally he can stop pacing around in circles and firmly telling himself that he is _not_ going to jerk off to the memory of Bucky wrapping him up tightly in rope and then using that rope to haul him around, put him wherever Bucky wanted him. At least, he’s not going to jerk off to it _again._

The drive to the hotel is much the same as last week, Tony doing his best to focus on driving and _nothing else._ It takes conscious effort to keep his steps even and measured as he crosses the lobby, to not look as desperate as he feels, and as soon as he’s alone in the elevator he’s bouncing on his toes, chewing on his lip again as he watches the floors tick by.

Tony can do this, he _wants_ to do this. He can be good, Bucky asks so little of him, and he is going to be as good as he possibly can, he’s going to try and _deserve_ a dom like Bucky, at least a little.

His hands are shaking a little as he lets himself into the room, nerves and anticipation twisting his stomach into knots, and Tony sucks in a deep breath as he steps through the door.

He’s in the middle of wondering if Bucky is here yet when the man steps out of the bedroom and his eyes are incredibly dark as they instantly fix on Tony, his stare so heavy that Tony would swear he can _feel it_ as Bucky slowly looks him up and down.

It has Tony freezing in his tracks, barely past the entryway, flushing and swallowing hard. He has a split second to think maybe he should have tried a little harder, he’s pretty sure his shirt has more than one grease stain on it and these are his comfiest jeans, he could have at least done something with his hair—

Then Bucky’s eyes meet his again, expression _ravenous,_ and Tony has a horrible feeling that he has a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face but there’s not a damn thing he can do about it because that’s how he _feels._ It doesn’t look like Bucky thinks he needs to be trying harder at all, his eyes have gone nearly black and his gaze on Tony is so unexpectedly intense that it’s almost hard to _breathe_ under.

They just stare at each other for several long seconds, and then Tony sucks in a sharp gasp as Bucky abruptly starts stalking towards him, all slow steps and carefully controlled strength, like a predator. And _fuck_ if he doesn’t look good doing it, dark jeans hugging his thighs and dark blue shirt stretched tight across his chest and biceps, making the thin ring of blue left around his blown out pupils stand out all the brighter. His hair is loose but pushed back behind his ears, and there’s still a pit of nerves in Tony’s stomach but it’s definitely being overshadowed by the rising wave of _heat._

By the time Bucky is crowding up into his space Tony’s heart is pounding wildly in his chest, his breathing fast and uneven. He’s thoroughly pinned in place by Bucky’s eyes never leaving his, the small smirk pulling Bucky’s lips up at the corners, and Tony is only about 90% sure that the look on Bucky’s face is a good thing.

It’s a dark, burning intensity that Tony would almost call _want_ except it somehow seems like _more_ and _fuck_ how long has it been since someone looked at Tony like that?

Bucky’s hands land on his hips, pulling him in gentle but insistent and he smirks wider when Tony grabs onto the front of his shirt with a shaking gasp, clinging like Bucky is the only thing keeping him standing.

Which is uncomfortably close to true, especially when Bucky’s hands instantly slide back to grab his ass instead, squeezing and kneading like he’s just been _dying_ for the chance, like he can’t even be bothered with boring things like _greetings_ before getting his hands on Tony again, and that as much as the touch has Tony moaning around another gasp.

“Still need me to kiss it better baby?” Bucky asks in a low croon, digging his fingers into Tony’s ass a little harder and pulling him a little closer, until their hips are pressed snug together and Tony is just trying to focus on not _shaking._ Bucky smirks when all Tony can manage is a choked whining noise and a weak shake of his head, leaning in close enough that their noses barely brush together as he teasingly prompts “No?”

“I-it’s all gone,” Tony says and his voice comes out soft and shaky, most of his attention on not letting himself collapse straight to his knees like some kind of pathetically needy sub even though that’s _exactly_ how he feels. They’re close enough that he can feel Bucky’s breath against his lips, _so close,_ and Tony tips his chin up a little higher as he drags in a wobbling breath, doesn’t think at all before blurting “I miss it.”

The low groan that rumbles out of Bucky’s chest sends a shudder down Tony’s spine, his knees wobbling as his legs turn to jelly and his cock gives a heady throb. Tony can’t do anything but let himself be led when Bucky starts walking him backwards, staying close enough that at least Tony can continue clinging to the front of his shirt for some semblance of balance.

It knocks the air out of Tony’s lungs when his shoulders bump up against the wall, so easily boxed in by Bucky’s wide shoulders, by his broad chest and thick arms, by Bucky pressing in against him. There’s a tiny flutter in Tony’s chest that might be the beginnings of panic, but it’s quickly drowned out by another wave of heat rushing through him as Bucky’s lips brush along his cheek.

“Fuck baby, I couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made for me all week,” Bucky says, low and heated, lips trailing along Tony’s jaw so Tony can just _barely_ feel the words against his skin, “I couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty your hole looked all red from my beard, bruised from my mouth, _fuck_ baby, you looked so good like that.”

Tony’s head falls back against the wall, and when Bucky _finally_ presses an actual kiss to the line of his throat Tony sucks in a sharp breath. He’s spent all week thinking about tonight, but at no point had Tony imagined _this._

Never would have expected being pounced on as soon as he walks through the door, like Bucky has been _thinking_ about this, which apparently he _has,_ and arousal surges so hard in Tony’s gut that it’s almost _painful._ Bucky’s tongue is _so hot_ as it flicks out against his skin and it drags a pitiful whine out of Tony’s throat, his fingers tangling harder in the worn-soft fabric of Bucky’s shirt.

“Christ baby, you smell so _good_ ,” Bucky growls out against his pulse, hands moving restlessly over Tony’s hips, “just wanna eat you up.”

The moan that bursts out of Tony is honestly embarrassing and it’s not just his legs that are shaking anymore, it’s _all_ of him, still too shocked to even _begin_ figuring out what to do with himself. All Tony can do is cling to Bucky’s shirt tighter and it doesn’t help, the muscles of Bucky’s chest are sold and distracting beneath his hands.

Tony jumps a little when Bucky’s head suddenly drops to rest on his shoulder, confused again, and after a second he realizes that Bucky is taking deep, slow breaths and hey maybe that’s actually a pretty good idea. Tony sucks in a couple uneven lungfuls of air himself until he at least stops shaking quite so hard, his shock fading away slowly to leave just the warm twist of _want_ in its place.

Bucky lets out a soft laugh and Tony finally lifts his head from where it’s fallen back against the wall, trying to get a read on what little he can see of Bucky’s expression, trying to figure out _why_ Bucky felt the urge to crowd him up against the wall and drive Tony out of his mind. And more importantly, why he feels the need to _stop._

“I’m sorry, that was, that was too much huh?” Bucky asks, and it startles a matching wavering laugh out of Tony. When Bucky lifts his head his expression has cleared a little, even if his eyes are still incredibly dark as they study Tony’s face.

“It... kinda? It was, um, unexpected,” Tony says slowly, even though _unexpected_ doesn’t really cover it. It’s that or admit he can’t remember the last time someone wanted him so much, _him,_ not just any sub to use and be done with, Bucky has been thinking about _him._ It makes something in Tony’s chest clench, unfamiliar and terrifyingly pleasant, and his voice comes out softer than he intended as he quickly adds “But, it was also incredibly _hot_ and, I-I liked it. It’s nice, knowing you want me.”

Bucky laughs again and it doesn’t _sound_ mocking, but there’s still a tiny part of Tony that wants to curl up and hide in the split second before Bucky’s hips roll forward against him, hard cock pressing into Tony’s hip, smirking a little wider when Tony gasps again.

“Believe me darlin, wanting you is _not_ the problem,” Bucky says hoarsely and the sound of it has another shudder working its way through Tony, “Me crossing your boundaries like that was not okay.”

Tony half shrugs one shoulder, bites down the indecisive noise trying to rise in his chest and hurries to assure Bucky “I didn’t mind it, really, it just, it was _sudden_?” He drops his gaze to his own hands, still tangled in Bucky’s shirt, and resists the urge to fidget as he quietly admits “I didn’t think you wanted me that much, I know I’m not a very good sub, but I—“ Tony has to pause to try and swallow down the sudden swell of shame in his chest, and his voice comes out barely more than a whisper as he finishes with “I want to be for you.”

He knows its not much of a promise, but at least it’s _true,_ and Tony can’t even remember the last time he wanted to be a good sub _just_ to be good, to make his dom happy instead of just trying to make things easier on himself. He’s always been kind of a shitty sub anyways, but he _wants_ to be good, wants to be even _close_ to the kind of sub Bucky probably deserves.

“Hey, Tony, _baby_ ,” Bucky says, cupping Tony’s cheek in his metal palm, like he can just _tell_ that Tony is starting to spiral. When Tony drags his eyes up again Bucky gives him a soft smile, and his voice is almost unfairly sincere as he says “I’m sorry I startled you, I should have had better control so I didn’t scare you. Believe me, I _want_ you, but I don’t _ever_ want to make you feel pressured to reciprocate if that’s not what you want. Whether we’re in a scene or not, you should _absolutely_ use your safeword if you need it.”

“I wasn’t scared,” Tony insists, though he can’t really argue that he _was_ startled, and he’s just doing his best not to pout because he’s pretty sure he’s already ruined it, no more sexy wall-crowding for him.

It’s too bad, because the more his brain comes back online the more Tony thinks he might have actually really been enjoying the way Bucky does it, gentle but firm, like the point is trying to get _closer,_ and _not_ just for the fun of shoving Tony up against walls and making him feel helpless.

“I just, didn’t expect you to _want_ me so much,” Tony says again, even though he doesn’t know _why_ he does it, it’s not like he needs to point out that Bucky could do way better than him. Scrambling desperatly for something else to say, he ends laughing a little wildly and trying to joke “I couldn’t figure out if that look you gave me meant you wanted to murder me or fuck me.”

Bucky laughs softly and the hand he still has on Tony’s hip slides back to squeeze his ass again, grinning when Tony’s face flushes a little hotter and another shudder races up his spine. “Believe me darlin, I want to fuck you,” Bucky says, his voice low and heated again, “But I already told you, I’m not going to till you beg me.”

Tony’s breath catches thick in his chest again and he nods shakily, most of his attention on not letting himself arch back into Bucky’s hand on him.

When he licks his lips Bucky’s eyes drop to track the motion, eyes darkening slightly before he shifts enough to brush his thumb over Tony’s bottom lip, lightest brush of cool metal over his skin. Tony _really_ can’t help himself, just _has_ to flick his tongue out against the smooth pad of Bucky’s thumb, and when he drags in a ragged breath he’s a little surprised to find Bucky doing the same.

“ _Fuck,”_ Bucky whispers, his voice shaking slightly, and it sends an all new rush of heat through Tony’s veins, “Baby, I can’t wait to get your mouth on me.”

There’s nothing Tony can do about the soft, surprised noise that slips out of him, his stomach giving another hard twist. They both groan lowly when he eagerly sucks Bucky’s thumb a little further into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the knuckle and working his tongue over the smooth, quickly warming metal.

For a second Tony forgets about everything else, just watching in awe as Bucky’s eyes darken further, gaze locked on Tony’s mouth and his breathing unsteady. Tony lets his jaw fall open a little wider, lips parting on a hard sigh as he drags his tongue up the length of Bucky’s thumb again, and he doesn’t even think Bucky realizes he’s leaning in closer, practically shaking.

When Bucky finally pulls his finger free Tony can’t help the soft whine that bursts out of him, his pulse loud in his ears and arousal burning hot and intoxicating in his stomach. He can’t get over the way Bucky is looking at him, so full of heat and open _want,_ and Tony is almost lightheaded with how quickly his blood is rushing south.

“Go to the bedroom and get naked,” Bucky orders, an edge of something like desperation in his voice and it has Tony shivering all over again, “Then kneel beside the loveseat and wait for me.”

Tony nods quickly, and when Bucky doesn’t actually _move_ Tony flushes a little harder as he slides his way free, resisting the urge to rub himself _too much_ against Bucky in the process.

He hurries into the bedroom, feeling Bucky’s heavy gaze on him the whole time, and immediately starts stripping out of his clothes with shaking hands, too worked up and breathless with anticipation to even consider wasting time on self-consciousness. He's already so hard that it almost _hurts,_ and Tony lets out a shaky breath as he shoves his pants down past his hips, his cock twitching in the rush of cool air.

It's nearly a relief to let himself sink down to his knees, catching himself with one hand on the loveseat when his wobbling legs give out halfway through the motion. Once he's settled Tony drops his chin and takes a couple deep breaths, trying not to squirm impatiently.

“Look how good you are,” comes Bucky’s voice from the doorway, and Tony snaps his chin up to find Bucky smiling at him, gaze soft and still so full of _heat_ as he asks, “So good for me, aren’t you?”

It seems like a question he actually wants an answer to, and _god_ Tony wants to say yes, but he can’t shake the feeling that he hasn’t _done anything_ yet. So he settles for a jerky nod and a hesitant, “I try sir.”

Bucky hums softly as he makes his way across the room, to where he already has his duffle bag waiting beside the usual room service cart. Tony watches avidly as Bucky goes about his usual preparations, more than a little breathless at the way Bucky’s sleeves pull so tight over his thick biceps, the stretch of fabric over his shoulders when he leans down a little to start digging things out of his bag.

Tony’s stomach twists up tight with arousal at the sight of the familiar red rope, and then abruptly drops when the next thing Bucky pulls out is a set of leather cuffs. Bucky carries on, blissfully unaware of the way Tony’s heart is tripping uncomfortably all over itself, and Tony does his best to just breathe through it.

Try as he might, Tony can’t make himself focus on the rest of the things Bucky pulls out of his duffle, can’t stop his mind from dragging up memories of the way leather cuffs always start to dig in, eventually, when he can’t help struggling against them. The soft jingle of the connecting chain that always sticks in his ears for hours. The rings of raw skin that are always such a pain to hide.

He barely notices when Bucky finishes laying things out and sinks to the ground beside him, and it takes everything Tony has not to jump at the light brush of Bucky’s fingers over his collarbone, like Bucky is trying to get his attention. Like he’s noticed Tony getting lost in his own head, and Tony can only hope his face isn’t giving away his nerves.

“I brought some things for you to choose from this time,” Bucky says, and he’s still smiling openly when Tony risks a glance over, sounds perfectly agreeable as he continues, “I have a set of cuffs here that would look so good on you but if you don’t want to use them, you can tell me.”

Tony looks back at the cuffs again, and they _do_ look about as comfortable as they probably can be, high quality at least, with soft rounded edges. So he does his best to swallow down the cold feeling rising in his chest, focuses his gaze on the back of the loveseat instead and shrugs a little because he can’t quite bring himself to nod.

“Those are fine,” he agrees, because they _are,_ it’s not like he _hates_ leather cuffs, he just... he likes the rope. He likes the care and attention Bucky puts into winding it around him, perfectly tight, but it’s _fine._ He jumps a little when Bucky’s fingers tap against his chin, and Tony hesitantly looks over again to find Bucky staring at him seriously, the barest hint of a frown tugging down the corners of his mouth.

“What did I tell you about lying?” Bucky asks as he lifts a single eyebrow, and his voice is gentle but his expression leaves no room for argument.

The cold knot in Tony’s chest is getting bigger, and trying to swallow it down accomplishes nothing. So Tony licks his dry lips and does his best to keep his voice even as he says “Not to do it?”

“And?” Bucky prompts.

“And... that we won’t do a scene if I don’t tell the truth?” Tony says slowly, shoulders crawling up around his ears despite his best efforts and damn it, _damn it,_ he should have done a better job of keeping his face blank.

“Mmhmm,” Bucky hums with the tiniest of nods, and taps his finger lightly against Tony’s chin again, “So, you want to try that answer again?”

Tony is definitely hunched down into himself now, chewing nervously on his lip, nerves growing strong enough in his chest that it’s hard to breath around. He knows he shouldn’t complain, he _shouldn’t,_ the cuffs are _fine,_ but Bucky is waiting for an answer. And he wants Tony to be _honest._

“I don’t...” Tony forces out around the lump in his throat, forces himself to continue staring at Bucky as he does it, and his voice is barely audible as he finishes with “I don’t want the cuffs.”

“Okay,” Bucky replies instantly, like he’s not going to insist, like he’s not going to make Tony argue his case. Which is in fact the exact thing Tony _doesn’t_ want to do, and his surprise must show on his face because Bucky smiles encouragingly at him and says, “Thank you for being honest.”

Before Tony can figure out how to react to that Bucky is leaning forward, pressing another barely-there kiss to his cheek and then propping himself up enough to grab the cuffs and drop them back into his bag while Tony is still distracted sputtering and blushing.

He still has that cold pit in his chest though, so once Bucky is settled back down beside him he swallows hard and tries to keep his voice even as he says “I... I can wear them if you really wanted.” Because Bucky wouldn’t have even _brought_ the cuffs if he didn’t want to use them, and Tony is just being a brat again, he’s just being picky and demanding when Bucky already asks _so little of him—_

“Absolutely not,” Bucky says, breaking into Tony’s thoughts with a voice that’s still light and when Tony glances up his expression is serious but still open, not a hint of annoyance, and Tony manages to relax a tiny bit. “Making you do something you don’t want isn’t okay, and it’s the antithesis of consent,” Bucky continues and Tony can’t do much more than blink at him stupidly.

Tony is going to protest that he _said_ it’s fine, that he doesn’t mind, that he wants to be _good,_ but before he can Bucky is speaking again.

“Even if you still told me you wanted to do the scene, it wouldn’t be consensual because you would be doing something you don’t want to, just to appease me,” Bucky says, and Tony bites his tongue guiltily because that is maybe exactly what he was going to try and say, “It would make me no better than a rapist Tony, so please don’t ever ask that of me.”

In a split second Tony’s entire body goes cold, breath catching in his chest and _fuck,_ he hadn’t meant to— That’s not—

The words echo in Tony’s mind— _no better than a rapist—_ and he feels physically nauseated for a moment, that he’s made someone feel like that when he knows exactly how it feels to have his own consent violated. _God,_ it’s hard the breathe through the guilt that swamps him and for a moment he thinks he might be sick, but he forces it aside and focuses on Bucky’s kind, gentle face.

He’s still watching Tony carefully, and there’s something like sorrow in his eyes as he studies whatever Tony’s face is doing. Tony is seized with the urge to try and comfort him somehow, but he’s lost on _how_ he would even go about that. Especially when a big part of his brain seems to still be stuck on the fact that he _doesn’t have to do something._

So much of Tony’s life is doing things he doesn’t want to, to one extent or another, playing nice at charity galas and press events, arguing in endless meeting rooms about the direction of SI when all he really wants is to _build,_ to make something new.

The idea of even a single place when he _doesn’t_ have to do something, just because he doesn’t _want_ to, it... it doesn’t make _sense._ Tony can’t wrap his head around it, but he still _wants_ it, wants to be able to just relax for a little while, and he finds himself blinking back embarrassing tears because even if Bucky has said it before, this is the first time Tony’s really put it to the test.

“Uh, yea, okay,” Tony finally says roughly, dropping his gaze again as he nods. It actually helps a little to tell himself that this is what _Bucky_ wants because _fuck,_ the last thing he wants to do it make _Bucky_ feel like he’s doing something wrong. The idea of being complicit in making Bucky a rapist makes Tony’s mouth taste like ash and once again he’s horrified that even _tangentially_ Bucky has wound up feeling that way.

He’ll do anything it takes to make sure that Bucky is equally as safe in this as Bucky makes _him_ feel so, if he wants Tony to be as picky and demanding as he wants, well then Tony is going to do his best.

He keeps eyes fixed on his own knees as Bucky shifts again, leaning back against the loveseat, close enough that their shoulders barely touch. Tony lets himself lean into it, just a little, just focusing on breathing as the roiling in his gut slowly settles again.

“Do you still want to do the scene?” Bucky eventually asks, voice gentle, “I won’t be angry or hold it against you if you’re not feeling comfortable with the idea anymore.”

Tony feels his heart lurch, and he’s shaking his head before Bucky is even halfway through his offer. “No I-I want to,” he stutters out quickly, because _fuck_ does he still want to do the scene, wants the chance to get his mouth on Bucky in return, to be _good,_ “I just... don’t want the cuffs.”

When Tony glances up nervously Bucky is still smiling at him, reaching out to gently take one of Tony’s hands and pull it up so he can drag his lips over Tony’s calloused knuckles. “That’s fine with me baby, can I show you how I want to tie you up?” Bucky asks, grinning wider when Tony flushes again and nods maybe a little too eagerly.

Bucky keeps his hold on Tony’s hand as he turns a little to grab his phone, dragging his thumb over Tony’s knuckles almost absently at he taps at the screen of his phone. Tony chews on his lip, skin of his hand tingling with every brush of Bucky’s smooth metal thumb. It’s such a simple thing, it’s _nothing_ considering Tony is currently naked and impatiently waiting to put Bucky’s dick in his mouth, but the gentle touch still starts up a squirmy feeling in Tony’s stomach that feels concerningly like butterflies.

Tony gets maybe a tiny bit lost watching the shifting plates of Bucky’s hand, and when he sees Bucky turning the phone towards him out of the corner of his eye he quickly drags his gaze up only to choke on a surprised noise. The gif on the screen shows a man wrapped up tightly in red rope, around his chest and ribs and hips, hard cock trapped against his stomach by several loops of rope as he squirms uselessly, and Tony feels his own cock throb as another weak sound slips out of him.

“So, I’ll immobilize your hands behind your back,” Bucky says, and the concern is obvious in his gaze as it drags down Tony’s chest and he asks “Do you think this center rope will put too much pressure on your chest?”

“It should be fine,” Tony says with a shake of his head, then considers for a second before adding “I think unless you wanted to add some kind of weight to it I’d be fine with mostly anything.”

Bucky nods slowly, eyes moving up to Tony’s face again, and then his brow furrows a little before he asks, “Does it make it harder to breathe when I have you like I did last week? Face down?”

“Not really,” Tony replies instantly, and then hesitates, licking his lips nervously. He doesn’t like to talk about the arc reactor, if he can help it, even if it is kind of a hard-to-ignore point of glowing light between them, but he really doesn’t want Bucky to worry so he forces out, “There’s some pressure on my lungs when I’m like that, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“You’ll tell me right away if something isn’t comfortable, right?” Bucky asks, gaze steady and intense, and Tony can’t even think to look away.

“I will sir,” Tony promises, because he _will,_ because he is very sure that Bucky will just blame himself if Tony doesn’t. Bucky continues to study him for a moment, then apparently decides Tony is telling the truth and he nods, tucking his phone away before climbing to his feet and holding out a hand.

Tony lets himself be pulled to his feet, stomach twisting in anticipation as Bucky grabs the rope and steps in close. The first press of rope into his skin has Tony sucking in a soft gasp, a shudder running through him and unwinding the tension in his muscles as it goes.

All Tony has to do is breathe slowly, focus on the feeling of Bucky’s fingers moving over his shoulders and chest, guiding Tony’s arms behind his back. Bucky’s motions are slow and confident as he winds the soft rope around Tony in loops and careful knots, pinning his arms in place and moving down his torso.

It’s so easy to let himself sink into the feeling, the warmth that spreads beneath his skin and through his body as Bucky circles around him, methodically winding the rope snuggly around his ribs and then a little tighter over his hips. Tony gasps and shudders at the first brush of smooth rope over his cock, abruptly reminding him that he’s so hard it almost _aches,_ burn of arousal in his gut making itself known again with a hard twist.

By the time Bucky finishes the final knot Tony is almost breathless, pulse loud in his ears and teeth dug into his lip, shivering at every shift of rope against his skin. Bucky drags a single finger up the underside of his cock and Tony whines as another hard shudder runs through him, cock twitching uselessly against the ropes keeping it pressed to his stomach and already wet at the tip.

“Mmm look at you baby, like a pretty present for me to play with,” Bucky says with a toothy smile, and then his fingers shift to trace over the knots of rope as he asks, “How do the ropes feel? Anything pinching or painful?”

Tony quickly shakes his head, already a little floaty, and his voice comes out a little dazed as he sighs, “No sir, feels good.”

“Good,” Bucky says with a nod, smile going a little smug, and then Tony has to swallow down the urge to whine again as Bucky takes a step back. Bucky makes himself comfortable on the loveseat, then lightly pats his knee and says “Come here and lay over my lap baby, I’ve got to get that pretty hole ready.”

Another choked noise escapes from Tony’s throat as his cock throbs against the rope again and _oh fuck_ he’d almost forgotten about the anal hook, too distracted with the thought of finally getting to _do_ something with himself. And now Bucky wants to get him _ready,_ which Tony had _also_ not thought about at all but _god_ does he wants to feel Bucky’s fingers on him again, pressing _into_ him.

Tony nods eagerly, breath caught in his chest, and goes to take a step forward only to immediately freeze in place when the rope around his hips shifts and drags ever so slightly over the hypersensitive skin of his cock to send hot bolts of pleasure up his spine. He pants for breath, shaking in the hold of the rope which only serves to have it digging into his skin a little more and the loveseat suddenly seems _so far away._

Every halting step has fresh waves of heat rushing through him, cock throbbing with every drag and press of the rope, and with every step Tony has to fight down a pitiful whining sound trying to rise in his throat. The entire time, Bucky watches him with an intense stare, taking in every hitch of Tony’s breath and every weak twitch of his cock.

By the time he’s finally standing in front of Bucky his entire body is shaking, skin almost painfully sensitive everywhere the rope is touching, and he’s too relieved to even be embarrassed about the way he all but collapses across Bucky’s lap with a soft moan.

His face feels like it’s _burning_ as he presses it into the cushion of the loveseat, shifting restlessly as much as he can and painfully aware of Bucky’s eyes still on him. Bucky drags a hand up his back, over the rope and the sweat that’s already beading on Tony’s skin, and Tony whines again as another hard shudder races up his spine in the wake of Bucky’s touch, leaving him trembling.

“Take a nice deep breath baby,” Bucky says encouragingly, fingers sliding up into Tony’s hair, and then makes a low, pleased sound when Tony obediently drags in a shaking lungful of air. His breath immediately rushes out of him again in a soft moan as Bucky’s fingers rub and scratch gently at his scalp, another shudder running through him that only gets harder when Bucky curls down around him and softly says, “That’s it baby, you’re doing so good for me. You’re so sweet darlin.”

Bucky presses a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck and Tony whimpers as it sets off a chain reaction of tiny shivers across his skin, spreading tingling warmth through his whole body and Tony barely manages to gasp out a weak, “Thank you sir.”

“Now you just lay nice and still,” Bucky says, lips barely brushing over the knobs of his spine with every word, “And I’ll get you ready, okay?”

Tony nods weakly, dragging in another deep breath in an attempt to settle himself and then lets it out in a sigh of, _“Yes sir.”_

“Good boy,” Bucky whispers and presses a final kiss to Tony’s neck before sitting upright again.

Tony does his best to focus on breathing deep and even, trying not to let himself get all worked up over just the sound of Bucky popping the lid on a bottle of lube and squirting some onto his fingers. He can’t help jumping slightly as Bucky’s cool metal palm settles huge over one of his asscheeks, spreading him open and Tony gasps raggedly as his cock leaks onto the already slick rope.

“God baby, look at you, so pretty and pink,” Bucky says in a voice that’s gone low and rough, and Tony whines softly as his stomach gives another hard twist of arousal, impossible heat flooding through him.

Tony shoves his face harder into the fabric of the loveseat with another choked sound, squirming uselessly under the heavy weight of Bucky’s stare. “Thank you sir,” he manages to get out in a breathy whisper, face hot and head spinning slightly.

The first brush of Bucky’s slick finger over his hole has Tony moaning and jerking against the ropes, muscles tightening and spasming with every drag of Bucky’s fingers until Tony is gasping and shaking with the effort of not shoving himself up into the contact.

“Look how sensitive you are,” Bucky says, something almost like awe in his voice, and Tony is halfway through an embarrassed whine when Bucky’s finger finally presses into him, all the way in one smooth slide.

The barely-there stretch and burn of it has Tony gasping roughly, squeezing his eyes closed as he squirms in place and tries to breathe past the roar of arousal in his veins. Bucky lets out a low moan of his own and Tony shakes harder as the sound vibrates through him, echoing in his ears and settling low in his gut.

“God, baby, you feel fucking _amazing_ ,” Bucky groans as he withdraws his finger before pushing back in, slow and steady and inescapable, and Tony doesn’t even try to fight the ragged moan that bursts out of him.

Tony arches up into the intense burn of pleasure, trying to get Bucky’s touch _deeper, more,_ only to gasp when the motion causes the rope to pull tight across his cock. He rocks his hips down, trying to chase the friction, but all it does is let the rope go loose again and Tony barely chokes down a frustrated whine.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” Bucky asks in a rough whisper as he presses into Tony again, finger just calloused enough that Tony can _feel_ every tiny shift, lighting him up from the inside out and spreading molten heat up his spine. And the entire time, Bucky is still squeezing and caressing Tony’s ass with his other hand, metal of his fingers quickly warming as they dig into the muscle and spread him _wider._

“Please! Sir!” Tony whines, words shaking in time with the tremors running through him as he rocks back against the steady thrust of Bucky’s finger. He groans breathlessly at the press of rope against his throbbing cock, the perfect stretch of Bucky working him open, caught in place and shaking with it.

When Bucky presses a second finger into him Tony moans loudly, hips jerking up into the aching burn of it and clenching hard around the thick weight of Bucky’s fingers spreading him open. Tony already feels like he’s floating, melting, sinking into it as his entire world narrows down to the heated pleasure of Bucky sinking into him with a wet, filthy sound.

“Damn baby, you open up so sweet for me,” Bucky says with another low groan, the steady thrusts of his fingers pushing the mind-melting burn of arousal in Tony’s gut higher until he’s whining and panting brokenly into the fabric of the loveseat. “You stretch out so nicely baby, take it so good,” Bucky says in a rough whisper as his fingers press deep, _deep,_ “I hope I get to see you all wrapped around my cock someday.”

The idea has Tony sucking in a sharp gasp, starts a hard shudder running through his entire body that leaves him trembling and _oh god_ he already feels like he’s burning alive, like he’s being taken completely apart. And he could have _more,_ more perfect aching stretch, more of the deep pleasure of Bucky moving inside him, and Tony’s head is _swimming_ as he whines out a weak plea of “Sir!”

“Hmm? Got something to say darlin?” Bucky teases, then completely ruins any attempt Tony might make at replying by thrusting his fingers in a little harder and pressing firmly against his prostate.

All Tony can do is let out a loud, shaking moan as his entire body pulls tight for a second, every nerve lit up and singing with it, his cock throbbing almost painfully as he squirms and twitches. He knows, distantly, that there was a plan here, Tony is supposed to be doing something with himself eventually, but he can’t focus on a damn thing besides trying to arch himself up against Bucky and _oh god_ he doesn’t want Bucky to stop.

“You're sensitive here, huh?” Bucky asks and the fact that Tony can _hear_ the smirk in Bucky’s voice has his stomach twisting up tighter, heat and pleasure flooding his brain until it's nothing but static. Bucky rubs over his prostate again and Tony can’t contain his wailing moan, just shoves his face harder into the loveseat in a weak attempt to muffle it and he nearly misses Bucky’s hoarse whisper of, “God baby, you don’t even know what you do to me.”

Tony doesn’t have the breath or the brain power to argue that he’s not doing _anything,_ that _he’s_ the one who’s losing his mind, moaning on every shaking exhale and trembling in the hold of the ropes. Tony can’t even arch back into the thrust of Bucky’s fingers, all his muscles already gone soft like warm wax and it tears a loud, wobbling cry from him when Bucky adds a third finger on the next thrust, slick and easy.

“Sir! Oh-god, oh _sir!_ ” Tony gasps out around shaking whines and he can barely even feel the stretch of it, all he can feel is _heat,_ clenching weakly around the thick, _full_ feeling of Bucky’s fingers moving inside him, fucking into him with steady motions.

He’s only vaguely aware of Bucky adding more lube, all Tony knows is the wet, easy slide of Bucky working his muscles loose, the messy sound of it, the building tension in his gut and _oh fuck_ it’s been _so long._ Tony’s every breath comes out as gasping whines and weak moans, garbled attempts at begging for more muffled against the cushion of the loveseat.

Tony whines pitifully when Bucky slowly withdraws his fingers entirely, twitching weakly in an attempt to rock his hips up and chase the contact, but Bucky just hushes him gently. His head spins as Bucky carefully and easily lifts him up and sets him on his feet, keeping his hand on Tony’s elbow to hold him up as Tony sways in place and blinks dazedly down at him, stomach twisting and chest clenching at the gentle strength of Bucky’s hold.

Bucky quickly shifts one of the cushions from the loveseat to the ground between his feet, keeping a steadying grip on Tony the entire time, and Tony gets maybe a little distracted by the wide spread of his thighs, the stretch of his jeans over thick muscle. He wants to feel it under his hands, wants to press his face into Bucky’s thigh again, wants Bucky’s fingers inside him again, he just— _wants._

It’s a relief when Bucky gently settles him down on his knees on the pillow and Tony no longer has to rely on his shaking legs to hold him up, instead he can focus on much more important things, like Bucky’s fingers running over the ropes around his chest and trying not to let himself list to the side so he can lean against Bucky’s leg. Even though he really, _really_ wants to feel that muscle again, the way Bucky doesn't even shift under his weight.

“How you feel baby? What’s your color?” Bucky asks, metal fingers sliding through Tony’s hair and there’s not a damn thing Tony can do to stop himself from leaning heavily into the touch.

Tony sluggishly drags his eyes up from the sprawl of Bucky’s legs, the way they easily bracket him in and surround him, past the wide stretch of Bucky’s shoulders to finally land on his face. There's a small, fond smile on Bucky’s face, the blue of his eyes so bright around his blown out pupils, and Tony smiles back helplessly as he sighs out, “Green sir.”

“Good, that’s good baby,” Bucky says warmly, thumb dragging along Tony’s hairline, and he continues holding Tony’s eye as he says, “Now, I need you to focus and let me know which hook you’d like inside you.”

There’s a desperate whine trying to build in Tony’s chest and he has to resist the urge to squirm in place, to blurt out that he doesn’t _care,_ he already feels loose and _empty_ and he just _wants._ Instead Tony just swallows thickly and nods, tries to force his fuzzy brain to actually focus as Bucky reaches for the hooks he laid out earlier.

Before Bucky even fully holds up the first option, tiny and short, Tony is shaking his head vehemently. He’s not sure what his face is doing, but it makes Bucky laugh softly, warm and fond, without a hint of mocking, and Tony grins a little wider.

“Okay, how about this one?” Bucky asks as he holds up the next hook and it’s a respectable size, not too long or thick, but Tony slowly shakes his head again. He’d been pretty distracted while Bucky was unpacking, caught on staring at the cuffs, but he’s really hoping there’s at least a couple more options because _fuck_ he wants _more._

The next hook is beaded, fairly thick at the base, and all the breath in Tony’s lungs escapes in a hard rush, his thighs shaking as he clenches hard in anticipation. “Yes, that one, please sir,” he blurts, nodding so vigorously that he makes his own head spin and finally giving into the urge to squirm slightly.

“Okay baby, you sit still and I’m going to put it in and connect it to your hands,” Bucky says and then waits for Tony to nod shakily again before pushing himself to his feet.

Tony doesn’t have time to mourn the loss of Bucky’s thighs spread wide around him before Bucky’s hand is settling between his shoulder blades, gently guiding Tony down until he’s bent over the loveseat, flushed face pressed into the fabric again and shivering slightly at the brush of cool air over his lube-slick skin. He makes an impatient sound that turns into a moan when Bucky easily sinks two fingers inside him again, shaking in time with the filthy sound of Bucky’s fingers thrusting into him before Bucky abruptly pulls free and replaces them with the hook.

The sound that bursts out of Tony is loud and shameless, getting louder and shaking harder with each bead that sinks into him. The last couple are more of a stretch and Tony whines around his desperate gasps for breath, twitching and moaning again as Bucky finally settles the hook in place.

Bucky wastes no time looping a bit of rope around Tony's bound wrists and attaching it to the end of the hook, although all Tony really cares about is the tug and shift of it, the way the shape of the beads just _barely_ nudge against his prostate. It's more a tease of pressure than anything, just enough to have Tony moaning as he clenches around the hook and tugs his arms against the hold of the ropes, trying to chase the short sparks of bright pleasure that burst beneath his skin.

Bucky hushes him gently, running one broad palm up Tony’s back, until Tony gives up on his useless squirming and goes limp, slumping into the loveseat and panting breathlessly as his cock throbs and leaks against his skin. He makes a weak sound of protest as Bucky gently lifts him upright again, settling Tony back so he's sitting on his heels and whining at every tiny shift of the hook inside him.

Tony struggles desperately to get his foggy brain at least a _little bit_ back online as Bucky settles down on the loveseat in front of him again, but all Tony can think about is the pressure of the the beaded hook settled deep inside him, the way it tugs at his rim and rubs against his prostate with every reflexive shift of his arms. The rope stretched over his cock is already soaked through and Tony whines out another pitiful sound as it twitches weakly, another bead of pre cum rolling down his skin.

“You’re so gorgeous like this baby, _fuck._ Perfect, my perfect baby," Bucky breathes out in a voice that's rough with want and something else that Tony can't even _hope_ to identify right now.

Instead he just leans into it eagerly when Bucky gently cups his cheek, finally letting his eyes fall closed and moaning softly. "Thank you sir," he finally manages to breathe out, nuzzling into Bucky's palm and then gasping sharply when even that amount of motion has the hook shifting inside him, lighting him up all over again.

Bucky tilts his head up, gently taps at his cheek with one finger, and then smiles warmly when Tony lazily drags his eyes open to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Hey there lovely,” Bucky croons sweetly, expression dark and warm, and Tony whines softly as heat spirals through him, “I’m going to get my cock out and you’re going to keep it nice and warm in your pretty mouth, aren’t you?”

The overwhelming, burning knot of arousal in Tony’s gut gives another sharp twist as he sucks in a ragged gasp, nodding frantically because _oh fuck that’s right._ He finally gets to get his mouth on Bucky in return, Tony gets to be _good_ and make himself _useful_ and he lets out another breathless, pleading sound as he lets his mouth fall open eagerly, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips. A deep groan rumbles out of Bucky’s chest and Tony whines his way through another hard shudder, squirming in his skin and flushing hotter as Bucky’s thumb drags over his bottom lip.

“That’s right, just like that my good boy,” Bucky says encouragingly and the words shiver down Tony's spine to settle like burning coals in his gut, “You’re going to sit and be quiet while I read, and if you’re good you’ll get to make me come.”

Tony lets out another hard rush of air and nods, rubbing his cheek into Bucky’s palm as he stares up in awe at the flush slowly spreading across Bucky's cheeks. _He_ did that, and Tony shudders again as he sighs out, “I’ll be good sir, promise, so good for you.”

Bucky smiles at him, thumb brushing the corner of Tony's lips again as he says, “I know you will baby, you’re my sweetheart.”

Tony's breath catches in his chest, his heart giving a hard twist to rival the throb of need in his gut. He's _stupidly_ desperate to know if Bucky means it and too stunned to find the words to ask, a little embarrassed by how hard a simple, sweet pet name has caught him off guard and made him _ache._

“That’s right baby," Bucky says, smiling a little wider, "You’re my sweetheart, and you’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Tony says with an eager nod, because he _will,_ he's going to be as good as he possibly can because _fuck_ he wants to actually _earn_ that fond, heated look on Bucky's face, wants to _deserve_ the amazing way Bucky treats him.

“Good,” Bucky croons sweetly and drags his fingers through Tony’s hair again before pulling away, his hands going to his zipper instead.

Tony’s breath comes in ragged gasps as he watches Bucky work his jeans open with rapt attention, trying to distract himself from the urge to clench around the hook, to tug on the rope and chase the bright sparks of pleasure.

He makes an inpatient sound when Bucky pauses for no apparent reason, jeans pulled open just enough that Tony can't focus on anything but the visible bulge of his cock through his briefs, resisting the urge to squirm in place.

“Baby?” Bucky says softly, smiling a little when Tony drags his gaze up from his lap with a reluctant huff. “So uh," Bucky starts almost hesitantly and Tony has to swallow down a nervous whine, worried that he's already messed up when he hasn't even _done anything_ yet. "I gotta warn you, my... I’m not circumcised, and I’m not exactly small either,” Bucky blurts out flatly, and then pauses for a faint laugh before hurrying to add, “If uh, if you don’t want to keep going we can do something else, I can edge you again maybe.”

Tony can only stare for a second, trying to figure out _why_ Bucky seems to think that revelation would be any kind of deterrent when all it does is make Tony's gut twist up tighter, barely able to think past the desperate fuzz of his brain. Finally Tony gets it together enough to shake his head jerkily because as much as he loves the idea of getting Bucky's hands on him again, playing him so expertly, he can’t stop his gaze from flicking back to Bucky's lap for a second, his mouth practically _watering._

“No sir, I want it,” Tony insists, dragging his eyes up to Bucky's face again with what is hopefully his best pleading expression as he adds, “Please sir?”

His gaze drags down Bucky's chest again, to the thick, distracting bulge of his cock where it's straining against the fabric of his jeans, and Tony is helpless against the urge to lean forward, to try and get _closer._

He gasps sharply at the pull and shift of the hook inside him, pressing deeper, but Tony doesn't let that distract him, instead just whines pitifully as he finally manages to press his face into Bucky’s lap, nuzzling into the warm denim with another weak sound.

Bucky lets out a gasp of his own, one hand landing in Tony's hair while his cock gives a hard twitch, and Tony sighs out another desperate noise against the seam of Bucky’s jeans, squirming and moaning softly as the hook gives another tug, clenching hard at the firm pressure against his prostate.

Tony has to take a second to pant raggedly, warm and wet against the swell of Bucky's cock and it doesn't help that with every shaking lungful of air he can smell _Bucky,_ warm and earthy, the hints of grease and worn metal and the musk of his arousal has Tony's head _swimming._

“Please sir? Can I have it?” Tony begs again, voice thick, letting himself drag his lips along the thick line of Bucky's cock as he does.

“Fuck, you’re already down aren’t you baby?” Bucky asks as he runs his fingers through Tony’s hair, his voice barely more than a rough whisper. Tony nods and whines shamelessly because _fuck_ is he ever, too far down to even marvel over how easily Bucky puts him here.

He lets himself nuzzle into Bucky's cock again, shaking and breathless as he promises, “Please sir, I’ll be so good. ” Tony drags in a ragged gasp and forces his eyes open, staring up at Bucky pleadingly as he mouths at the head of his cock through the fabric his briefs, wet and sloppy as his mouth waters, and then pleads, “Can I have it?”

“Fuck yea sweetheart, you can have it," Bucky says with a jerky nod and Tony eagerly leans back enough that Bucky can return to shoving his briefs out of the way, his voice a low, rumbling groan as he promises, “All for you baby, it’s all yours."

Tony's breath catches again as Bucky finally pulls his cock free from the open V of his jeans, thick and flushed and already wet at the tip, visibly throbbing in Bucky's hand. Tony has to swallow hard, clenching reflexively around the heady weight of the hook seated deep inside him. Bucky cups his other hand around the nape of Tony's neck, firm and grounding, and Tony's mouth falls open eagerly when Bucky guides him forward, his stomach _writhing_ with anticipation as the head of Bucky's cock presses between his lips.

Bucky moans and swears softly, but it's lost behind the roar of blood in Tony's ears, the weight of Bucky's cock on his tongue, the stretch of Tony's jaw as he presses _closer._ The shift and rub of the hook inside him is secondary to the heat of Bucky's skin, the taste of him bursting across Tony's tongue and driving the fire inside him higher, the burn of arousal in his stomach almost overwhelming.

When Bucky's cock presses against the back of his throat Tony just drags in a deep breath and keeps going, relaxes and lets his jaw go lax, lips stretched wide. It might have been quite a while since he last did this, but _god_ he wants it and Tony swallows eagerly as the thick weight of Bucky's cock slides down his throat. Tony lets out a breathless groan when his nose bumps up against Bucky’s skin, against the slight tickle of his short pubic hair, a happy little thrill running through him and spit already escaping the corners of his lips.

“Fuck, baby, look at you,” Bucky gasps out, voice hoarse and gravely in a way that sends a hard shiver down Tony's spine as he asks, "Can you breathe like that?”

A tiny nod and a happy hum is all Tony can manage, doesn't want to lose the careful balance that he's achieved here, and he drags in a shaking breath through his nose to show that he _can,_ he’s _fine,_ he can absolutely stay here as long as Bucky wants, he can be _good._

It's so hard to keep his eyes open under the onslaught of sensation, the throb of Bucky's cock in his mouth and the pressure of the hook against his prostate and the ever-present drag of the rope over his own aching cock, making it impossible to ignore, but Tony stubbornly forces his eyelids open every time they start to droop. He doesn't want to miss the way Bucky is looking at him, heated and awed, his pupils blown out huge and his cheeks flushed.

“Ok, if you need a break, I want you to snap your fingers twice, can you do that for me now?” Bucky orders, gentle and a little breathless, and then nods in satisfaction when Tony doesn’t even have to think before obeying, snapping his fingers and then whining at the way it tugs slightly at the hook. “Good, that was perfect sweetheart,” Bucky says and Tony shivers again as the praise settles low in his gut and the pet name makes his chest clench, “Now, you just stay still and keep my cock nice and warm and wet in that pretty mouth, okay?”

Tony hums around Bucky’s cock and nods minutely again, still struggling to keep his eyes open under the weight of Bucky’s heated stare, and then sucks in a sharp breath through his nose when Bucky swears quietly and his thick thighs go tense on either side of Tony’s shoulders, huge and firm and Tony shivers again as he clenches around the hook and his own cock gives another weak throb.

Bucky takes a couple deep breaths, like he needs to steady himself, and the knowledge has Tony’s stomach twisting up with burning pride, because Bucky _wants_ him. Bucky needs to catch his breath and all Tony is doing is holding Bucky’s cock in his mouth, down his throat, trying to resist the urge to swallow greedily around him.

When Bucky picks up his book and starts reading Tony doesn’t even try to follow the words, just lets himself sink into the deep, quiet sound of his voice, the rough, trembling edge of it. Tony’s entire world narrows down to the safe hold of the rope around him, the weight of Bucky’s cock and the warm honey of his voice.

His fingers start petting and stroking _so gently_ through Tony’s hair as he reads, and Tony kind of loses track of everything that isn’t _Bucky._

The way he groans when Tony can't help swallowing around him, whining at the feeling of drool still escaping his lips to drip down his chin and smear messy against Bucky’s skin, the thick weight of Bucky’s cock stretching his jaw perfectly and filling his throat. He can feel Bucky’s pulse against his tongue, the way Bucky’s cock twitches with every tiny happy noise that rises in Tony’s chest, and Tony lets himself drift in the warm haze of it, his entire body floaty and disconnected, _flying._

He slowly drags his eyes open when Bucky’s fingers trace over his wet, tingling lips, not even sure when they fell closed, and his chest gives another almost painful twist at the look on Bucky’s face. His eyes are impossibly dark, hair a little wild like he's been tossing it back and forth against the back of the loveseat, breathing unsteady and expression almost reverent like _Tony_ is something amazing.

“God baby, you look so beautiful like this, thank you,” Bucky whispers softly, thumb stroking over Tony's cheek, “Thank you for letting me use your pretty mouth.”

Tony smiles as much as he can with his mouth full, humming and nuzzling in until his nose is smashed against Bucky's skin. He shudders when Bucky groans deeply and curls down around him, giving a tiny roll of his hips and then letting out a choked sound a moment later when Tony can't help but swallow around him again.

“Fuck sweetheart, your _mouth,”_ Bucky groans roughly, forehead resting on the back of Tony’s head, and Tony can feel the way Bucky trembles against and around him, like he's struggling to hold himself still.

It drags Tony back to the real world enough to remind him that his own cock is so hard it _aches,_ throbbing against his stomach and impossible to ignore no matter how much he tries to let himself drift again. He can't help squirming against the ropes occasionally, tugging at the hook and whining wetly as it shifts and rubs his prostate again.

“Does that feel good baby?” Bucky demands in a heated whisper, and Tony makes an attempt at a hum of confirmation even as he shifts and whimpers again

Bucky is still shuddering slightly as he sits back again, taking a couple deep breaths before he picks up his book. Tony sighs softly through his nose as Bucky's warm, rough voice washes over him again, dragging him back down into the warm, hazy floating place where all Tony has to focus on is the rope and the hook and the stretch of his jaw, the feel and scent of Bucky all around him.

And still, Tony can't completely ignore the throb of his cock, the involuntary clench of his muscles around the thick beads of the hook, the slow simmer of arousal that's been building inside him bursting into a wildfire.

It makes it difficult not to continue squirming and shifting, chasing the bright bolts of pleasure that it sends through him, but Tony takes slow, deep breaths through his nose and forces himself to hold as still as he can, trying to focus instead on the weight of Bucky's cock against his tongue.

Tony makes a soft confused noise as Bucky gently starts guiding him back, sliding his cock free from Tony's mouth and leaving Tony's lips feeling tingling and swollen as he pants raggedy. Bucky's cock bobs and throbs in front of him, wet with spit and pre cum, flushed an angry red, and Tony whines breathlessly as he clenches around the hook and his hips twitch uselessly. He tries to lean forward, tries to get Bucky's cock back into his mouth, only to be stopped by Bucky's firm hand on his shoulder and a truly pitiful sound bursts out of Tony's chest. He forces his eyes open again, intending to give Bucky his best pending look, only to blink in surprise when Bucky presses a water bottle to his lower lip.

“Here baby, have a sip of water for me,” Bucky murmmers and gently tilts Tony’s head back, careful not to spill as he tips a couple small amounts of water into Tony's open mouth, even though Tony is dimly aware that his face is already a mess of drool. When Bucky pulls the bottle away Tony returns to panting brokenly for air, trembling in place until Bucky's hand cups his cheek and pulls his gaze up to Bucky's face again. “Hey honey, what’s your color?” he asks gently, thumb stroking so sweetly over the curve of Tony’s cheekbone.

It takes a second before Tony can work up the brainpower to answer, head too full of fuzz, and finally he manages a dazed-feeling smile and a slurred out “Green, s’green sir,”

“Yea? Anything pinching?" Bucky asks, his dark gaze moving over Tony intently, checking him over, "How are your knees doing?”

Tony has to think about that one a little longer, has to actually put in effort to feel any part of him that's not his aching cock, the stuffed-full feeling of the hook keeping him _perfectly_ stretched open, but eventually he manages to shake his head and sigh out, “Feels good sir... I’m good.” Tony almost can't believe how true that is, all he feels is _good,_ his entire body loose and relaxed despite the needy burn of arousal thrumming through him, and he smiles up at Bucky dopily.

Bucky rubs his cheek again and smiles back as he says, "Okay baby, I’m gonna put you back on my cock and you’re gonna stay there till I decide I’m ready to come." Tony nods and whines eagerly, because _fuck_ does he want to feel Bucky come, and then chokes on an abrupt moan when Bucky grins wider and adds, "If you keep being so good you get to decide if you want me to come down your throat or on your face, okay?”

 _Good,_ Tony has been _good,_ and the knowledge has his chest swelling and his stomach twisting, his head _swimming_ as he bobs it in a disjointed nod.

“I, I’ve been good sir?” he can't help blurting out, voice rough and pathetically hopeful, but Bucky just smiles wider, soft and warm.

“So good baby, you’ve been perfect,” Bucky says immediately and Tony's breath catches thickly in his throat when Bucky leans in to press a soft kiss just above his eyebrow. “My sweetheart, you’re so good for me,” Bucky whispers, presses one more kiss to his skin before leaning away, and Tony has to swallow down what feels startlingly like a sob as Bucky smiles gently and slides his wide palm around the back of Tony's neck again, tugging him in with a low, “C’mere now.”

Tony lets his mouth falls open eagerly, leaning forward to meet the slick press of Bucky's cock between his lips. He barely even registers when the motion causes a thousand and one bright points of pleasure to light up across his body, much more concerned with greedily sucking at the head of Bucky's cock and dragging his tongue along the underside as he presses deeper, chasing the musky taste of him and the way Bucky's answering groan rumbles through his whole body.

“Huh uh baby, no taking what you want without asking,” Bucky scolds him, voice breathless but firm even as his hips twitch up slightly. “You just keep my cock nice and wet and be good.”

The sad noise that slips out of Tony can't be helped, shame curling coldly in his chest for a second because he _forgot,_ but Bucky doesn't sound angry, he's still giving Tony a chance to be good, so Tony lets his jaw go slack again and allows himself a single frustrated wiggle.

Which turns out to be a _terrible_ idea, because the motion pulls the rope tight across his cock and tugs the hook firmly up against his prostate, makes him _burn._ Tony drags in a sharp gasp and ends up gagging around the weight of Bucky’s cock in his throat as agonizing pleasure rushes through his entire body, races up his spine and has him trembling in the hold of the rope.

Tony has to pull back slightly, just enough that he can drag in a full breath, and then whines as the hook shifts again and he can't help clenching hard around it. It’s _so_ tempting to just writhe in place, arch back into the pressure of the hook and choke himself on Bucky's cock, chase the bright sparks of pleasure until he loses his _mind._ _Fuck_ does he want that, but more than anything Tony wants to be _good._

So he drags up the willpower to just hold himself still for a second, forces himself to focus on trying to _breathe,_ trying to get himself back under control even as his entire body _throbs_ in time with the static in his head.

Once the furious burn inside him has receded to at least a manageable level Tony swallows the spit and pre cum that's flooding his mouth and _slowly_ leans forward again, making sure not to tug on the hook too much and dragging in slow puffs of air through his nose as he lets Bucky's cock slide down his throat again. He settles himself with his nose pressed to Bucky's stomach once more, trembling with the effort of holding himself still, of not rocking his hips desperately and _uselessly_ in place.

“Sweetheart... that was _perfect,”_ Bucky croons, sweet and breathless, and Tony whines softly at the feeling of Bucky's fingers tracing a shaking line along his temple, the almost reverent edge to Bucky's voice as he sighs out, “My perfect boy.”

Tony makes a helpless keening sound as the praise settles low in his gut, makes him _ache_ all over again. He can't help squirming slightly, trying to find any relief from the torturous burn of arousal beneath his skin and instead all he accomplishes is shifting the hook up against his prostate and dragging the rope across his cock again, and Tony's breath is ragged and rough through his nose as another hard shudder runs through him.

It takes a couple seconds, or fuck maybe it takes _hours,_ Tony can't be sure, but eventually he manages to get himself settled and he's rewarded with Bucky's fingers running through his hair again, Bucky's rough voice washing over him as he resumes reading.

Try as he might, Tony can't completely lose himself in it, the needy throb in his gut is just at the edge of painful and it is _impossible_ to fully ignore at this point. Especially when he can feel Bucky's cock twitching and throbbing against his tongue more frequently, leaking pre cum slick and warm down his throat, when Tony can't help clenching occasionally around the hook, whining and squirming before settling again.

Bucky's voice starts to shake as he continues reading, and the knowledge that Bucky is slowly coming undone as well winds molten heat around Tony's spine, has him slumping into the hold of the rope even as he trembles with want.

By the time Bucky's hips are rocking up slightly, thrusting himself that little bit deeper into Tony's throat, Tony has completely lost control of the soft, whining noises slipping out of him with every breath. He can feel the drag of Bucky’s cock past his lips, warm and _so thick_ as Tony drools messily around him.

His entire body feels lit up like a livewire, chilled with sweat and still _burning,_ shaking and keeping his eyes clenched tight against the desperate tears trying to build behind his lids, nearly sobbing as another hard shudder runs through him and causes the hook to shift again.

“Baby, open your eyes,” Bucky orders gently, smooth metal knuckles stroking along his cheek, and Tony pries his eyes open with another soft whimper only to be greeted by the sight of Bucky smiling warmly as he breathes out, “Good boy.”

Tony hums and squirms again as pride and pleasure swirl together hotly in his veins, then lets out a shaking moan as the rope shifts against his skin and his cock _throbs._ It's like he's _melting,_ constant shivers running through him as he tries to lean in impossibly closer, shoulders pressing into Bucky's thick thighs as Tony nearly collapses into him.

“I know baby, I know," Bucky hushes him softly, fingers sliding back into Tony's hair again, "You’ve been so good for me darlin, so good.” Tony is still shuddering at the earnest praise when Bucky's fingers tangle a little harder in his hair, tugging slightly, and Tony's eyes roll back in his head with a loud moan, wet and muffled around Bucky's cock. “That’s it baby," Bucky says and Tony whines again at the heat in his tone, the open hunger as Bucky asks, "Now, do you want me to come down your throat or on your face? Snap your fingers once for your throat and three times for your face.”

It takes way too long for Tony to register the words, brain fuzzed over and it’s an effort to even keep his eyes open, stomach writhing with heat at the idea of Bucky coming on his face, getting to _watch_ him come, and yet—

He doesn't want to lose the heady feeling of Bucky's cock against his tongue and the weight of it in his throat, keeping him full. It takes another second for Tony to reconnect his brain to his body enough to even feel his hand, but finally he manages a single snap, heart already racing with impatient anticipation.

“Very good baby," Bucky says, tugging lightly at his hair and while Tony is busy whining and drooling he says "Now, you can come too if you want, but you’re going to have to rub your pretty cock off against my leg and tug on that hook if you want it.” Tony gasps and nearly gags again as his gut gives a painful twist of arousal, because _fuck,_ he hasn't even _thought_ about getting to come himself, too worked up over the fact that he finally has the chance to get Bucky off this time, and he almost misses it when Bucky adds, like it's some kind of _warning,_ “If you wanna get off, you have to _work_ for it.”

Tony is already squirming in the firm hold of the rope as he nods and lets out an eager moan, spit and pre cum sliding down his chin and he doesn't _care._ All he cares about is rocking his hips in place minutely, excited to finally be allowed to chase the burn of pleasure that's been slowly building inside him and even more excited to _finally_ get to make Bucky come.

“Good boy. Now, I’m gonna fuck your mouth nice and slow, if you need a break it’s two snaps, okay?” Bucky asks and there’s no mistaking the breathless edge to his voice now, the dark hunger in his eyes, and it all combines to leave Tony nodding hopefully and trembling.

It's hard to focus on Bucky's face enough to give him a pleading expression, hard enough just to keep his eyes from crossing, but Tony does his best. Apparently it's enough though because Bucky slides one of his legs between Tony’s spread thighs and nudges it forward to put firm pressure against the base of Tony's cock until Tony's hips buck forward and he lets out another choked moan.

“Go on now baby, rub yourself off,” Bucky orders breathlessly, rocking his hips to press his cock up a little deeper into Tony's throat before sliding back again, and he rumbles out a low moan as Tony swallows around him eagerly, dragging his tongue along the underside and sucking greedily as Bucky thrusts into his mouth.

Tony is entirely too far gone to hesitate, just grinds himself into Bucky's leg with jerky, uncoordinated motions and _oh fuck_ even that barest friction against his bound cock has Tony letting out constant moans, wet and muffled and he's _burning._ With every roll of his hips the hook shifts firmly against his prostate, lightning bolts of white hot pleasure blazing up his spine in perfect counterpoint to the drag of his cock and Tony is _lost_ in it, caught in a loop of writhing in place and then whining out a wet moan with every heaving breath as every tiny movement has him lighting up from the inside out all over again.

It's almost _too much_ after so long spent trying to ignore the building desperation, and still the biggest relief is that Bucky is _finally_ fucking into his mouth, cock sliding between his tingling lips and gliding over his tongue. Tony is _finally_ allowed to bob his head in time with Bucky's thrusts, rocking back harder into the hook with a choked whine, and he's finally allowed to press his tongue up below the head of Bucky's cock on the withdraw and then swallow weakly around him as Bucky presses deep into his throat again. Tony is dimly aware that he's making a _mess,_ grinding his leaking cock into Bucky's leg and drooling all over them both, but Bucky just groans and fucks into his mouth harder, his cock throbbing against Tony's tongue.

He can feel it when Bucky starts getting close, the way his cock swells and his thighs tremble, pre cum flooding Tony's mouth. They both jolt with the force of Tony rutting himself against Bucky's leg harder, chasing the building pressure of his own orgasm and whining breathlessly as he sucks harder at Bucky's cock, sloppy and desperate because _fuck_ he wants to feel Bucky fall apart, wants to be the one responsible for it.

Tony keeps bobbing his head as he feels Bucky's cock pulse and begin to spill down his throat, keeps up the suction and swallows eagerly, chasing the raw, throaty cries that Bucky lets out with every drag of Tony's tongue.

Come spills from the corners of his lips and Bucky is still _so hard,_ still fucking into Tony's mouth with shaking rolls of his hips, and Tony is reduced to pitiful whines as he grinds into Bucky harder. The angle is a little awkward with his cock pinned against his stomach by the rope, makes it difficult to drag the full length of his cock against Bucky's shin, and Tony's whimpers are getting dangerously close to sobs as he trembles and rocks his hips forward again.

A startled noise bursts out of Tony when he's pulled away from Bucky's cock again, but before he can complain Bucky is shoving two metal fingers between his swollen lips and growling, “C'mon baby, come for me.”

When Tony forces his eyes open it's to the sight of Bucky jerking himself off almost furiously, inches from his face, and if Tony's brain hadn't already melted out of his ears he'd probably be embarrassed by the weak sound that he mewls out around Bucky's fingers.

Being more upright lets Tony tug his arms up a little more, lets him roll his hips back harder into the shift and press of the hook buried inside him, and he whines brokenly when he ends up grinding himself down against the top of Bucky's foot. Tony moans sharply at the obscene feel of rubbing his cock into Bucky's shin before rocking back against his boot, the way it presses the hook impossibly deeper and puts firm, overwhelming pressure against his prostate.

“That’s it sweetheart, make yourself come,” Bucky pants out, his hand moving faster as he jerks himself off, and Tony nods dazedly, torn between watching the throb of Bucky's wet cock as it slides between his fingers and watching the darkening flush on Bucky's cheeks, the way it spreads down his neck.

Tony's head is spinning as his eyes jump constantly between the two, sucking on Bucky's fingers and nearly sobbing around them as he continues rocking back against the hook and then grinding himself forward against Bucky's leg. He's _dying,_ wound up so tightly he can't believe he hasn't already snapped and Tony's moaning breaths come ragged and uneven as the roll of his hips becomes jerky and uncoordinated. His every muscle seizes up until Tony can't even _breathe_ around it, until his entire body feels like one flayed nerve, like a string that's been pulled tight and then _plucked,_ and he can only whine and shake in place as Bucky's fingers press a little deeper into his mouth.

“C'mon baby, come all over me," Bucky growls and there's just the barest hint of dom command in his voice, rumbling a hard shudder down Tony's spine and flowing over him like warm honey. When the spark of it meets the building pressure in his gut Tony _breaks_ , crying out loudly as he jerks and writhes in place, pleasure blazing through him in blinding waves that only get higher when Bucky's fingers slide free from between his lips to tangle in his hair instead.

Bucky holds him firmly in place with a tight grip on his hair while Tony moans and shakes, cock throbbing against the hold of the rope and spilling messily onto his stomach to smear into Bucky's jeans as Tony's hips jerk and he groans out what might be Bucky’s name.

The first spurt of come that lands on his face has Tony sucking in a sharp gasp, eyes slitting open and shuddering again at the sight of Bucky’s hand flying across his cock, the blown out look in his eyes as he hisses Tony’s name and comes again.

Tony lets his mouth fall open with an eager whine, already desperate for the taste of him again, and his cock gives another throb as Bucky’s come lands on his lips and outstretched tongue, almost brand-hot against his skin as the last pulses land on his chin and throat.

His ears are ringing with his own heartbeat, with the sound of Bucky’s shaking moans and the way he sounds as swears breathlessly and calls Tony _sweetheart,_ calls him _angel,_ and Tony shudders weakly through the last shocks of his own orgasm.

Bucky’s grip on his hair loosens and Tony whines as his head drops forward limply, the rope attached to the hook still buried inside him the only thing holding him upright while he shakes and pants for breath, spit and come sliding down his chin and dripping onto his heaving chest.

For a second the only sound in the room is both of them gasping unevenly, and then Bucky drags in a deep breath and out of his peripherals Tony can see Bucky tucking his cock away, pushing himself upright again. Tony sighs out a sad sound when Bucky climbs off the loveseat, leaves him swaying weightlessly and struggling to keep his eyes open.

In what feels like no time at all Bucky is kneeling beside him again, steadying him with a hand on his arm and gently ordering, “Gonna clean you up now baby, close your eyes.” Tony hurries to obey, his eyes falling closed as he leans into Bucky’s hand cupping the back of his head and then shivering when Bucky whispers, “Good boy.”

Bucky is _so_ gentle as he wipes Tony’s face clean with a warm washcloth, and Tony has to swallow down a disappointed noise, surprised by how much he misses the feel of Bucky’s come on his skin, feeling _marked_ with it.

It’s easy to sink into a warm daze as Bucky starts undoing the ropes, disconnecting the hook from his arms and hushing him gently when Tony whines at the shift of it, rubbing Tony’s sore muscles until he feels like a warm puddle of wax, completely melted. All Tony has to do is mindlessly follow Bucky’s soft instruction, leaning into him and zoning back in just enough to gasp sharply and jerk when Bucky’s fingers brush his cock in the process of undoing the complex loops of rope around his torso.

“It’s ok honey, almost done,” Bucky hushes him again, petting at the rope marks left on his skin until Tony settles again, “There, now, let me wipe you down.” Tony sighs and sinks into him harder as Bucky drags another warm washcloth down his chest and over his hips. “Last thing baby, gotta get that out of you, okay?” Bucky says softly as his fingers trail down Tony’s spine, leaving little shivers in their wake and Tony nods weakly even as he clenches around the hook again.

Tony moans brokenly as Bucky starts working the hook out, slow enough that Tony can feel every bead as it slides free, hear the slick sound of it, and it makes Tony’s gut twist up all over again as he pants against Bucky’s chest. The sound that Tony makes when the hook finally pops free is nearly a sob, painfully empty and for a second Tony’s entire body tightens and shakes before he goes limp again, collapsing against Bucky with a heavy sigh.

Everything is a haze as Bucky scoops him up into the air easily and Tony is barely able to work up the energy to cling to the front of Bucky’s shirt, to press his face into Bucky’s neck. Warm, everything is warm, and _soft,_ blurred around the edges and Tony aches in all the best possible ways, smiling dopily as Bucky settles him into bed and then pulls away.

Before Tony can even manage a weak sound of complaint Bucky is turning out the lights and crawling in behind him, pulling Tony into his arms and wrapping around him tightly as he whispers “You did so good baby, it’s time to rest now.”

Tony hums happily, wiggling back a little more snugly into Bucky’s chest, and then falls asleep between one breath and the next.

* * *

Tony wakes up and he still feels a little soft around the edges, warm and cozy with the blankets pulled up around his chin and Bucky's thickly muscled arm wrapped securely around him.

He doesn't want to move, still feels fucked out and lazy and Tony lets himself continue to drift, pointedly ignoring the fact that it feels _dangerously good_ to wake up like this, to wake up _not_ alone, warm and comfortable and a little sore, Bucky's breath warm against his hairline.

It feels like something Tony could all too easily get used to.

He's in the middle of deciding that maybe he'll just go back to sleep, real life can't hurt him if he's asleep, when he feels Bucky shift slightly and draw in a deep breath, his nose still buried in Tony's hair.

“Are you _sniffing_ me?” Tony asks, voice rough with sleep, grinning a little despite himself and resisting the urge to snuggle back into Bucky a little harder.

Bucky just laughs softly and tightens his arm around Tony as he says, “You smell fantastic sweetheart, I can’t help it.”

“I stink like sex,” Tony argues with a soft huff of his own, because he's _very sure_ that he does, Jesus he can smell it on himself. He's grinning as he rolls over and wiggles closer, until he can press his nose to the curve of Bucky's jaw and take a deep breath of his own. "So do you," Tony adds softly and inhales again, head swimming a little at the smell of sweat and sex and _Bucky,_ that perfect warm mix of musk and cologne and soap and metal.

Tony shifts back just enough to rest his head on the pillow again, and when he tips his chin up a little to meet Bucky's eyes his breath catches a little in his chest. He probably should have stayed facing the other direction, Tony did _not_ think this through, because now they're _so close,_ practically sharing the same air, and Tony has to struggle to keep his gaze from drifting down to Bucky's lips.

He casts around desperately for something to say, _anything,_ because if he doesn’t start talking soon he's going to do something incredibly stupid like try to kiss Bucky, and finally Tony blurts out, “Guess I made a mess of your pants. ”

He follows it up with an apologetic smile at least and he can't resist nudging his knee forward a little, until he can feel Bucky's bare skin against his own and even that amount of contact has a little thrill going through him. And Tony is _refusing_ to let himself start actually worrying that Bucky will be pissed about his jeans, because it's too late now anyways, and Bucky _told_ him to.

Bucky just hums and lifts his hand to brush his fingers over Tony's cheek, thumb dragging over his lower lip, and Tony bites his tongue so he won't suck Bucky's finger into his mouth again.

“Mmm yea well, figure I made a mess outta you, so it’s only fair, ” Bucky says lowly and then traces his fingertips over the warming curve of Tony's cheek, his voice a little rougher as he adds, “You looked so gorgeous all covered in my cum.”

“I liked it,” Tony sighs out easily as a hard shiver runs through him, watching in awe as Bucky's pupils get just a little wider. Tony's head is still the tiniest bit foggy, loose and relaxed and everything is just a little soft around the edges, and it makes it so easy to quietly admit, “I liked being marked by you.”

 _“Fuck_ Tony," Bucky says with a low groan, eyes dark and heated, "thinking about you last week with my marks on your ass was bad enough.” He pauses for a shaking laugh, and his voice is a little rougher as he adds, “I dunno how I’m gonna make it through this week remembering how you look when you have my cum all over you.”

Tony chokes out another low noise and shifts a little closer, warmth churning in his gut again as he resists the urge to let himself arch forward against Bucky, his cock giving a weak throb. And oh, it's _so_ tempting to sink back into the memory of Bucky jerking himself off onto Tony's face, the heat of it and the open awe on Bucky's face as he'd watched his own come land on Tony's face. If Tony isn't careful he could easily lose himself in the warmth that the memory has rising in his chest, the feeling of being _wanted,_ being _marked_ with it.

He lets out a shaking breath when Bucky's arm slides around him again, warm and solid, and tips his head down to press his forehead to Tony's with a shuddering sigh of his own. The room is dark around them, even the light of the arc reactor muffled by the blankets pulls up over them, but they're close enough that Tony can still marvel at the fan of Bucky's eyelashes as his eyes fall closed, the way his face smooths out a little as he takes slow, deep breaths. Tony swallows thickly, hesitantly slides his own hand over Bucky’s hip and when Bucky doesn't react Tony wraps around him a little tighter, tries to distract himself from the urge to get _closer_ by tracing mathematical equations into the warm skin of Bucky's back.

Slowly, Tony's heart rate evens out and the low burn of arousal in his gut fades back down to a comfortable warmth. He can feel the way Bucky’s breath slows as well, and Tony lets his own eyes fall closed as the last of the fog clears from his brain, so slow and easy that he barely notices it happening.

Warm, post-nap cuddles are exactly the _last_ thing Tony expected when he gave in and went looking for a dom, and it might be the third time it’s happened but it still leaves him a little thrown.

Sleepy cuddling isn’t a thing Tony expected _at all,_ really, these days, and he’s doing his best to just enjoy it while he can without getting all stupidly emotional. He might spend most of his time alone in his lab, just his bots and his AI for company, but once a week, for now, Tony gets to feel wanted, gets to feel _special,_ and it might just be a mutually beneficial arrangement but it’s still.... _really nice._ It’s so much more than Tony expected.

By the time Bucky draws in a slightly deeper breath, clearly intending to speak, Tony is halfway to falling asleep again and he forces his eyes open with a couple slow blinks.

“Stay here,” Bucky says, soft and intimate in the small space between them, “I’ll be right back.”

Tony nods, a tiny grin on his face as their foreheads press together a little harder. “Okay,” he whispers and apparently all that deep-throating is catching up with him, because his voice comes out rough and terrible, and he has a terrible feeling that his face is flushing again, but hopefully Bucky is too busy climbing out of bed to notice.

Bucky goes through the now familiar motions of grabbing a plate from the room service cart and placing it in the microwave before he starts cleaning up and packing everything back into his duffle bag. Tony watches him shamelessly, too relaxed to even try to hide it, although he does force himself to swallow down his noise of complaint when Bucky pulls on a pair of sweats, covering his glorious thighs and the bulge of his cock through his briefs that Tony has definitely _not_ been staring at.

The microwave beeps and Tony finally puts in the effort to push himself up against the headboard, just enough that he won’t choke while he eats the delicious smelling food that Bucky is already carrying over on a tray.

“Watch your eyes,” Buck says quietly, reaching for the bedside lamp, and then waits for Tony to hum in acknowledgment before actually clicking it on.

Tony resists the urge to make grabby hands as Bucky settles beside him on the bed again, easily balancing the tray of food on one hand, and Tony can’t even decide which he wants more, the piccata sauce that he can already smell or to wrap himself around Bucky again.

Bucky settles the tray in Tony’s lap, and Tony only pauses long enough to shoot him a grateful smile before he digs in eagerly. The chicken is crispy and steaming slightly as Tony cuts into it, and the first bite has him nodding and humming happily, even if the sauce _does_ burn his raw throat a little.

God it’s been _so long_ since he had a good piccata sauce, and this is _excellent._

He quickly cuts another bite for Bucky to try, and the wide smile that spreads across Bucky’s face as Tony offers him a forkful has Tony’s chest clenching, a pleased warmth spreading through him that only has a _little_ to do with the way Bucky licks his lips clean afterwards.

There’s a familiar, comfortable quiet as they eat, and there’s a tiny thrill in Tony’s stomach every time Bucky leans in to take a bite directly from Tony’s fork. Tony does his best to scrape up every last bit of sauce, pointedly ignoring Bucky’s amused grin, and when he finally gives up and sets down his fork Bucky quickly grabs the tray up again to take back to the room service cart.

He grabs Tony’s briefs from the armchair on his way back, and then grins and watches unabashedly as Tony wiggles into them. As soon as he’s done Tony squirms back under the blankets, chasing the lingering warmth of their combined body heat, and then looks up at Bucky with a small smile.

Tony clears his throat before he tries to speak, and his voice still cracks a little as he pats the mattress beside him hopefully and asks, “Debrief time, right?”

He’s probably imagining the eager edge to Bucky’s movements as he nods and crawls back into bed, but it ends with Bucky stretched out beside him again and that’s all that really matters.

“Are you up?” Bucky asks as he settles in on his back and looks up at Tony, “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Worn out, but very very good.” Tony says instantly, helpless against the smile growing on his face as he slumps down into the pillows a little himself. Then he clears his throat and laughs a little before adding “Throat’s kind of sore, but, also good.”

Tony doesn’t even mind the smug look that briefly crosses Bucky’s face, because it’s _so much better_ than the look of self-doubt he gets sometimes. And because yeah, he _deserves_ to be smug, Tony feels _amazing._

“Good, I’m glad I could make you feel good,” Bucky says, and Tony revels in the fact that his eyes look even a bit lighter, that there’s slightly less tension hovering around him. “So, what did you like about what we did?” He asks, shifting to prop himself up slightly with one arm behind his head, and Tony gets a little completely distracted for a couple seconds staring at the thick swell of his bicep, the bunch and shift of muscle as he moves.

When he realizes that he’s staring and actually _licking his lips_ Tony quickly drags his eyes away again, face flushing because _fuck_ he is so obvious.

“I uh, all of it?” he says with a weak attempt at a laugh, heat spreading down his neck as he shoots a quick glance over at Bucky. “The hook was,” Tony’s breath catches in his throat as the memory of it rushes through him, the way it had moved and rubbed against him with every involuntary twitch of his muscles, and he has to swallow thickly before he can continue, “It was _so good._ It was absolute _torture_ to feel it shift inside me and to have to hold still.”

Bucky nods in satisfaction, and yeah Tony figures that’s probably _exactly_ what he planned. Bucky reaches out to trace his cool metal fingertips over the deep rope marks on Tony’s hip, straying across his lower stomach, and there’s no doubt that he can feel the way Tony shudders as his breath catches again, but all Bucky does is smirk a little wider and ask, “Anything else?”

Tony huffs out a hard breath and scrubs his hands over his burning face, laughing softly as he accuses, “You just want to hear how much I liked sucking your cock, don’t you?”

“Nah, not unless it’s true,” Bucky says with a grin and a shake of his head, then quirks a single eyebrow and stares at Tony expectantly.

Right, Bucky wants _honesty,_ and Tony hesitates in the act of nodding vigorously. Because it’s not that he _hadn’t_ liked sucking Bucky’s cock (dear _god_ had he ever), it's just that...

Tony feels his cheeks flush a little darker, because he knows the _more honest_ answer, and his voice comes out a little weak as he admits, “I like that I had to just be something for you to use, to keep your cock hard and wet, for you to get yourself off with. I like that I got to be... useful.”

The last word comes out barely more than a breath and he peeks up at Bucky nervously, hoping he's not wrong because _fuck_ Tony just wants to be useful. He wants to feel like he's _doing_ something, like he's actually giving Bucky a reason to keep him around, a chance to do the one thing that he at least _knows_ he's good for.

Bucky’s thumb strokes soothingly over his hip for a second, expression thoughtful, and it comes out incredibly earnest when he finally says “I’m glad you liked it, you were absolutely perfect for me sweetheart. The way you rubbed off on me, moaning and desperate for it,” Bucky pauses to shake his head, like he's in disbelief, and his voice is a little lower as he repeats, _“Perfect.”_

“Thank you sir,” Tony whispers, dropping his chin as his cheeks burn harder and a tiny, self satisfied smile takes over his face. He clears his throat and at least manages to make his voice a little steadier as he says, “I’m glad I finally got to make you come, I... you were…”

Tony's pretty sure his face is _burning_ at this point, but he won't forgive himself if he doesn't get this out, if he doesn't make _sure_ Bucky knows that—

_“YouweresohotjerkingoffonmyfaceandIreallylikeditifyoueverwanttodoitagain.”_

The smirk on Bucky's face is small but absolutely _wicked_ as he slides his hand up the skin of Tony’s chest and there's no doubt he can feel the quickening thud of Tony's heartbeat, the breathless rise and fall of Tony's ribs as his fingers skirt around the arc reactor. Bucky brushes his thumb teasingly over Tony's nipple and then grins wider when Tony gasps and arches into it, a warm zing of pleasure shooting through him.

“Yea?" Bucky asks and the words are nearly a _growl,_ rumbling through Tony's entire body, "You like being marked with my cum?”

Tony bites his lip as he nods jerkily, heat spreading down his neck and he doesn't hesitate at all before sighing out, “Yes sir.”

“You like being marked as _mine?”_ Bucky demands in a low whisper, heated and rough, and then gives Tony's nipple a quick pinch, tugging slightly and sending another sharp, bright bolt of heat through Tony's body.

 _“Sir,”_ Tony whines pitifully, nearly _pleading_ as he shifts slightly under Bucky's hand. Every drag of Bucky's smooth fingertips over his nipple has another jolt of pleasure setting low in Tony's gut, trying to twist him up tight again.

It doesn't help that Tony can't stop thinking about _exactly_ how it had felt, squirming at the memory of Bucky's cum hot on his face, the way he'd carefully wiped Tony clean afterwards, called him _sweetheart._ And fuck, _the look_ on Bucky's face as he'd done it, the _sounds_ he'd made, it has an echoing warmth spreading though Tony's body and he whines as his cock gives a nearly painful twitch.

“Did you like it?” Bucky asks again, insistent, and shifts to play with his other nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers until Tony is shuddering and panting, static growing at the fringes of his mind again.

“Yes, yes sir," Tony finally manages to gasp out, voice trembling in time with the rest of him as he admits, "I... I liked it.”

He tries to swallow down the swell of emotion rising in his throat, he really does, tries to slow his rapid breathing, but his eyes feel distressingly wet and Tony slaps his hands over them as he shakes harder. His next breath comes out as a soft whine and for a second Tony is lost in it, ninety percent sure he’s about to burst into humiliating tears of relief and happiness as the warmth of the memory spreads through him again. He tries to remind himself that this is just a temporary arrangement, a temporary feeling, but it doesn't help because Tony already knows that he's going to be holding onto this memory for a long, _long_ time. Clinging to what it feels like to be _good,_ to feel like he's _special_ to someone for a minute.

Tony barely even realizes his mouth is opening before he's whispering, “God, I loved it, y-you made me feel special and wanted and—“

He has to pause when his voice threatens to break in his already raw throat, gratitude swelling huge in his chest and gathering in a hot pressure behind his eyes as he struggles to settle his breathing. Tony tries to wipe subtly at his face as he drops his hands, just to be on the safe side, and then turns to face Bucky again with his steadiest attempt at a wide smile.

“Thank you,” he croaks out, and his voice might be rough but at least it sounds as earnest as he feels, and Tony hesitantly lifts his hand to cover Bucky’s where it's fallen still over Tony's hip. It's probably entirely _too honest,_ reveals way too much about how _easy_ it is to win him over, just pat his head and make him feel like he _matters_ for a second, but Tony still can't stop himself from shakingly repeating, _“Thank you.”_

“You’re welcome sweetheart,” Bucky says softly, and if he's judging Tony for getting all misty eyed at least he hides it well as he shifts his hand a little, until he can wrap cool metal fingers around Tony’s wrist in a surprisingly grounding hold.

Tony lets himself focus on the gentle drag of Bucky's thumb over the fragile bones of his wrist as another comfortable quiet falls around them, punctuated only by the muffled sounds of the city. When Bucky suddenly shakes his head with a heavy sigh Tony goes a little tense, but he quickly realizes that Bucky's attention isn't on him, or anything he's done, but instead on the window across the room.

It takes another couple seconds to figure out what's put the slight wrinkle between Bucky's eyebrows, but eventually Tony picks out the extra aggressive honking down on the street, mixed in with the usual noise of the city that he’s so used to tuning out.

Which is probably way harder to do with enhanced senses, he realizes.

“You ever wish you could get away?” Bucky asks, and there’s something tired and a little wistful in his voice that makes Tony’s chest clench in sympathy.

Tony grins a little, lifting an eyebrow and aiming for a joking tone as he says, “I travel like three times a month for work, I get away way more than I’d like.”

Bucky doesn’t take the bait though, just shakes his head again and the wrinkle between his eyebrows is on its way to becoming a frown as he says, “No, that’s not what I mean.” He pauses for a second, and his voice is _definitely_ wistful as he explains, “I mean, wouldn’t you like to get away from the city, to a place that’s quiet and yours and there’s no traffic or shouting or _anything.”_

There’s tension creeping into his expression again, into the set of his shoulders, and Tony has no idea what to do about it. His initial gut reaction is to offer to send Bucky on a vacation, if that’s what he needs, but _no, bad Tony,_ that is exactly the kind of thing that he always does, the kind of thing that’s _entirely_ _too much_.

He’s learned over and over again that throwing money at people in the hopes that they’ll stick around only gets him... well, people who only stick around for that reason.

It _is_ still a little temping, but Tony manages to limit himself to what is _hopefully_ a teasing voice as he says, “Sounds like you could use a vacation.”

“Yea maybe,” Bucky agrees with a nod and a tiny, rueful laugh, and the way his gaze drops away from Tony’s is _not_ encouraging.

Tony swallows hard and fights down the urge to shift anxiously, because there’s _obviously_ something bothering Bucky. He doesn’t know how to even begin asking about it though, especially after he almost ruined everything last week by trying to volunteer his help when Bucky clearly didn’t want it.

With every passing second though the twist of Bucky’s lips gets a little more miserable, and Tony may not know what to say but he knows he has to do _something,_ and before he knows it he’s reaching out. He brushes the fingers of one hand hesitantly over the soft fabric of Bucky’s shirt, then swallows down his nerves and spreads his hand out over Bucky’s sternum.

It’s only a _little_ distracting that he can feel the steady thump of Bucky’s heart beneath his palm as Bucky glances up at him, but Tony shoves it down. Instead he takes note of the tight clench of Bucky’s jaw, the haunted look in his stormy eyes, and tries to figure out what the _hell_ he can say to make any of it any better.

He can’t just ask _‘what’s wrong,’_ because odds are pretty low that Bucky will actually want to tell him, and Tony knows that question is a great way to throw _him_ on the defensive at least.

Finally Tony settles on a quiet and simple, “Are you okay Bucky?”

He figures it’s probably a safe option, and on the very slim chance that Bucky _does_ want to talk about it, to _Tony_ of all people, then hopefully it at least comes across that Tony is going to be the last person to judge him. That he knows a thing or twelve about being a _mess_ and that he _cares,_ he cares a surprising amount (maybe a _terrifying_ amount, but that’s a worry for later).

And in the likely event that Bucky doesn’t want to talk about it he can just say _‘I’m fine’_ and Tony can go back to trying to mind his own business and hiding his concern.

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a long second though, instead just drops his chin again like he's trying to hide the miserable twist of his mouth, and Tony can feel the way his next breath catches slightly on the inhale.

“I’m just _tired,”_ Bucky chokes out, rubbing his metal hand almost aggressively over his face, and his next breath seems to rattle through his whole chest on the way out, like it's shaking something loose.

Tony's chest clenches painfully at the open exhaustion in Bucky's voice, the pain that he's _almost_ successfully hiding. Tony's mouth opens and closes uselessly a couple times, at a complete loss for what to say, all he knows is a weak offer that they can take another nap if Bucky wants is probably not the way to go.

It might help if Bucky was actually looking at him, if Tony could get a read on if he should even _try_ to comfort Bucky or if he'd be better off just sticking to bad jokes, but instead Bucky is just staring out into nothing and Tony doesn't know what to _say._ Before he can actually think of anything though Bucky speaks again, his voice rough and wet and _awful._

“I’m tired of everything being loud all the time, and crowded, and feeling fucking trapped by this goddamn city," Bucky says heavily, then looks up at Tony again and oh, that does not help _at all,_ has Tony biting down a hurt noise. There's a weariness in his eyes that Tony can't even _begin_ to imagine, but he's all too familiar with the wobbling smile on Bucky's face, the way his lips tremble with the effort of keeping it in place as he whispers, “I’m just tired."

Tony can't stop the soft sound that bursts out of him this time, because he _knows_ that tone of voice, the exhaustion, the _loneliness._ He knows _exactly_ what it feels like to slap on a smile and hope no one notices that he's just a pile of loosely held together pieces, and he's moving before he can even think about it, before he has a chance to second guess himself.

He's not sure which of them is more surprised when he sprawls out on top of Bucky, but Tony has already started so he continues on with wiggling the blankets up around them and then wrapping Bucky up in a tight hug.

It's as much a relief as it is gut wrenching when Bucky readily clings to him back, tucks his face into the curve of Tony's throat and takes deep, shuddering breaths. His flesh fingers are trembling as they press into Tony's back, his eyelashes wet where they flutter against Tony's neck, and another tiny pained noise escapes Tony's chest as he buries his fingers in Bucky’s hair again and hugs him a little tighter.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky whispers, breath shaking against Tony's skin, and he probably doesn't even realize that he's clinging to Tony tighter. Tony certainly isn't going to complain though, just runs his fingers through Bucky's hair in what is _hopefully_ a soothing manner.

“Hey, no, you don’t have to apologize,” Tony says quickly, biting down the insane urge to laugh because Bucky would _definitely_ take it the wrong way.

He probably wouldn't understand that Tony just finds it a little crazy that anyone would feel the need to apologize to _him, especially_ for being a hot mess. He considers pointing out that _he's_ the one who had a full blown panic attack the first time they tried to meet, but decides against it. He doesn't think that would actually help much, right now, and he doesn't want to make it sound like a _bad_ thing just in case Bucky is currently working his way up to a panic attack. Which, again, Tony is the last person to judge, sometimes all that can be done is just letting it out and getting it over with, but he’s still kind of hoping that Bucky _won't_ because _fuck_ Tony has no idea what to do when someone _else_ is having a panic attack and _oh god_ he has to say _something—_

“Believe me I’ve been tired before,” Tony blurts helplessly, but at least his voice comes out soft and steady, doesn't give away that he has _no idea_ what he's doing or what he's going to say next. “Did you ever hear about the time I almost died from palladium poisoning?” he finds himself asking, and then doesn't wait for a response before diving right on into a story that he did _not_ expect to be telling tonight.

He can't tell if it's actually helping at all, but at least Bucky's breathing doesn't get any less steady, and Tony manages to keep his voice light the whole way through. It's maybe a weird tone to use when telling a story about almost dying slowly, but Tony is mostly just hoping that it means he won't sound like he's just throwing himself a pity party, because that is _very much_ not the goal, and _god_ Tony hopes he’s not coming across as a giant self-centered asshole here. He's just trying to show that he _gets it,_ fuck does Tony understand what it feels like to be completely worn down, to be going through the motions as a collection of raw nerves and broken pieces, just waiting to fall apart.

"Long story short, created a new element, and I am no longer walking around looking like a weird hybrid human/crossword puzzle," Tony finishes with a soft snort, because that was not at all a short story, but Bucky seems a little calmer, tension fading away a tiny bit and his breathing evened out again, and Tony is absolutely going to count it as a win. Even if his throat does feel dry and rough by the end.

He braces his hands on Bucky's chest to push himself upright, looking down at Bucky again and chewing on his lip as he mently debates how to phrase his next suggestion, and if he even should. He doesn't want to push, he _always_ pushes too hard, but if he could _help—_

Maybe if he just works up to it.

“Does coming here stress you out?” He asks hesitantly, and then shakes his head when Bucky immediately frowns, because yeah that question hadn't come out quite right. “No, let me rephrase; does coming to the hotel make you anxious?" he tries again, and haltingly admits "There’s a lot of people and cameras and— I mean I know it bugs _me_ a little that someone might recognize me, but, how do _you_ feel about it?”

Bucky doesn't answer for a couple agonizing seconds, during which Tony's stomach works itself into tighter and tighter knots, but finally Bucky nods slowly and says, “I don’t really enjoy it. It feels like we’re being judged and the cameras really don’t help my paranoia. But what other option is there?” He pauses to shrug, looking a little lost, and Tony resumes nervous fretting as Bucky finishes with, “My place isn’t big enough or well equipped for us, and if you’d stand out here, you’d _definitely_ stand out there.”

Well, that's about as good of a lead in as Tony could possibly ask for, so he sucks in a deep breath and carefully asks, “What if I told you I had a place that’s private and secluded and away from the city we could go to?”

Bucky bites his lip, looking like he's actually thinking it over, and Tony is honestly just relieved that Bucky is even considering it. He can't help fiddling nervously with Bucky's shirt beneath his hands, running his fingers over the stitching along the edge, as he waits for Bucky's answer.

Tony knows it's kind of a lot, that it somehow seems way more _real_ than just a standing reservation at a mid-range hotel, but he really hopes Bucky agrees. If only because he really does seem like he could use some time away from the city, away from _everything,_ and it's not like the cabin gets used for literally anything else.

Tony had bought it years ago, probably in a sleep-deprived haze with vague ideas of getting away from work now and then. Needless to say, he doesn't even remember the last time he went out there now, but all it'll take is a phone call to have the place fit for use. And if it'll give Bucky even a little bit of peace Tony can’t see any reason why they _shouldn't_ use the cabin.

Unless of course, Bucky isn’t comfortable in a place that Tony owns, full of Tony's tech, which really wouldn't be surprising. Of course he wouldn't want that, Tony shouldn't have even brought it up, they can just stay at the nice neutral ground of the hotel, and Tony is seconds away taking it all back when Bucky finally speaks.

“I would say that sounds wonderful,” Bucky says slowly, and a wide smile starts to spread across Tony’s face before quickly freezing as Bucky continues, “But would you feel comfortable being alone with me somewhere secluded? At least here, there would be people to hear you scream if something...if I…” Bucky trails off, coughing awkwardly and it’s probably a good thing his gaze slides away, or he’d see the open confusion as Tony’s face as he says, “I don’t have control over when flashbacks or panic attacks happen.”

 _“Okay?”_ Tony says slowly and he's pretty sure they’re not having the same conversation, because wouldn’t it be better to call someone on a _phone,_ or just give Bucky some space, why would Tony just scream for assistance from random hotel guests, is he supposed to hope one of them is a doctor?!

“Here, you can scream and someone will hear you if I attacked you while I was out of it,” Bucky says quickly, his voice tight like he’s forcing the words out and his eyes still shifting around to avoid meeting Tony’s, “There, no one would know.”

Oh, he's worried about _Tony,_ that probably shouldn't be surprising, but once again Tony finds himself having to fight down the urge to laugh. It's just _very funny_ to him that Bucky thinks a silly thing like _'his own safety'_ would stop Tony from doing something anyways. He manages to get his face mostly under control when Bucky finally looks up at him again at least, limiting himself to a small smirk.

“I have an AI and built in defense system that can take out a Chitauri space whale, should one ever decide to attack upstate New York," Tony says, grin widening slightly, because he might be reckless, but he's also _paranoid,_ and just because he never uses the cabin doesn't mean he doesn't occasionally make sure the place is up to date with defences and weapons.

He considers pointing out that the thought hadn't even occurred to him, that at this point it's kind of hard to imagine not feeling safe with Bucky, but it's kind of an _absolutely terrifying_ realization. That's probably the kind of thing he shouldn't admit, and Tony is also going to have to give himself a good talking-to about it later.

"I think it can handle you if I’m in trouble,” he says instead, throwing in some obnoxious cockiness in the weak hope that it'll make Bucky smile, might lighten _some_ of the shadows hanging over him.

To his delight Bucky actually _laughs,_ the quiet snorting laugh that Tony is pretty sure means it's been startled out of him, and the tight pull of his shoulders unwinds just a little as he says, “Okay, well, then yea, it sounds wonderful sweetheart. How far is it outside the city?”

“About an hour, if I’m driving,” Tony jokes, smiling wider as relief floods through him that Bucky actually _likes_ his suggestion, that Tony might be able to _help_ with the tension that Bucky never seems to completely let go of. Tony finds himself relaxing as well, grinning and shrugging and maybe rambling a little as he says “But really, if neither of us feel comfortable here, then why keep coming? I have a perfectly good cabin that just sits there empty 99% of the time, so we might as well put it to use.”

“I... yea, yea ok,” Bucky says as a smile slowly spreads across his face and it really is amazing what it does to his expression, how much lighter it makes his eyes and the way it brings out tiny little smile lines around them. “Would I be able to come see it before we do a scene?" Bucky asks, sounding thoughtful again, "I’d like to see the setup and get a feel for where you’re comfortable having scenes before just diving in.”

“Definitely," Tony says, nodding maybe too eagerly as he mentally runs through his calendar for the week, "I have some things this weekend I can’t really get out of, for fear of swift and unfair retribution from Pepper," he says, and then winces a little when he realizes that sums up his schedule for the rest of the coming week too. Pretty much the only time he's free is his already cleared Friday night, so he suggests, "Maybe we could skip our scene next week and I can drive us up so you can see it?”

“That’ll work for me," Bucky says, looking thoughtful again, and then asks, "Are you going to be ok if I want to make some changes? Just to make sure things are safe and ready for some of the things I have in mind?”

Tony can't deny that he's curious about these things Bucky apparently _'has in mind,'_ although he's also a little apprehensive about what exactly is going to require home renovation. And he's maybe a little disappointed that it means they almost definitely _won't_ be having a scene next week, but Tony is not letting himself think about that because it is a ridiculous thing to be disappointed over, it’s _one week._

“I think that’ll be fine," he says with a slow nod, then grins and playfully adds, "You can tell me more about these things you’ve been planning while we’re there, because I am very intrigued.”

“Whatever you like baby,” Bucky croons, grinning up at him as he shifts his hands to Tony's hips and Tony bites down a startled noise, face flushing because he is _still_ not used to what Bucky's voice does to him in that sweet, low tone.

When Bucky rumbles out a low, delighted laugh Tony ducks his chin and blushes harder and _oh_ would you look at that, he has ended up perched directly in Bucky's lap, how the hell is he _just now_ noticing that?! Now he can't notice anything _but_ the stretch of his thighs on either side of Bucky's thick torso and Tony squirms a little as the warmth that's been growing in his chest spreads down to swirl hot in his gut.

It is _so_ tempting to rock himself in Bucky's lap, but Tony manages to get himself under control and if he has to tangle his fingers in the soft fabric of Bucky's T-shirt to distract himself, knuckles pressed to the firm line of Bucky's abs, well that's Tony's business.

“I could take next weekend off and we can go back up Saturday or Sunday and I can help you install whatever changes it is you want to make,” he offers, hoping like hell he can actually swing that, then grins a little wider and drops his voice like he's telling a secret as he adds, “I don’t know if you heard, but I’m pretty handy.”

“That would be perfect sweetheart, thank you," Bucky says, once again ignoring Tony's attempt at a joke in favor of being _infuriatingly sweet,_ smiling as he pets at the bare skin of Tony's hip, calloused fingers sliding up his back and Tony resists the urge to squirm again. "I’ll see about getting off and then we can make plans for one of those days to go back up and get things set up.”

Tony nods happily, still surprised that his wild suggestion has actually gone over well, that Bucky actually _agreed,_ that he trusts Tony enough to go out to some mysterious cabin in the middle of nowhere despite the fact that he's no doubt heard about a million stories about why trusting Tony is a _bad_ idea. Bucky still agreed, and Tony doesn't even know _what_ to call the feeling that swells in his chest, just that it's bright and almost sharp, surprise and satisfaction and about twenty other things all swirling together until it feels too big to possibly stay contained within his ribs.

He's not sure how long they stay there, just smiling at each other in a comfortable quiet that's punctuated by the soft rain that's started to fall and the occasional honk of another horn. Eventually Tony clears his throat and reluctantly pulls away, smiling and huffing in fake annoyance when Bucky has to steady him a little as he shoves himself to his feet. He takes his clothes when Bucky hands them to him and starts pulling them on, only getting distracted watching Bucky move around the room packing up his bag and almost toppling over _once._

By the time Bucky finishes pulling on his boots Tony is rocking on his heels, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, and he can't help noticing the glance Bucky shoots towards the window before frowning down at his jacket. Tony is once again reminded that Bucky _walks_ here, that the damp air and the rain make his shoulder hurt, and Tony has to bite his lip against the urge to say _something._

Tony spends the walk to the elevator trying to figure out if there's anything he _can_ do, and then trying to figure out how to bring it up without sounding like a clingy, worried maniac.

He hasn't figured it out by the time the elevator doors close behind them, and then the floors start counting down on the display, and to his horror Tony finds himself blurting, “Can I give you a ride home? It just- it’s late and dark and raining and I’d like to be sure you get home safe.” It comes out kind of weak by the end, and he's not sure when he started clinging to Bucky's arm, but Tony's chest is clenching almost painfully at the thought of Bucky trudging home in the rain, shoulders up around his ears and wound tight enough to snap all over again.

“Sure,” Bucky agrees, quickly enough that Tony doesn't even have time to work up a proper panic about it, and all Tony can do is blink in surprise a couple times before smiling widely.

Tony makes himself let go of Bucky's elbow and shoves his hands into his pockets again, so he won't do something crazy like hug Bucky out of gratitude. He can't do a thing about the huge smile on his face, weirdly smug for someone who's about to drive into _Brooklyn,_ but Bucky smiles back and leans into him slightly, so Tony just leans into it as well and doesn't let himself think about it.

The first thing Tony does when they get in the car, after finding some decent music of course, is hit the button for the seat warmers. He can see the second it kicks in, smirking proudly at the deep sigh Bucky lets out as he melts back into his seat.

“Like it?” Tony asks smugly even as he sinks back into his own seat a little, because he did _not_ mess around with the upgrades he made to the standard seat warmers and he has never once regretted it. “Designed that myself for those days when I had to drive post Avenging and everything hurt.”

“It’s nice,” Bucky agrees, most of his attention apparently on trying to line as much of his shoulder as possible up against the heated part of the seat back.

“That it is Buckaroo, that it is," Tony says happily as he starts pulling out of the parking space, and then asks, "Hey, what’s your address?” Bucky rattles it off as Tony speeds towards the exit of the parking garage and Tony nods, taps his fingers against the steering wheel while he waits for the gate to raise and asks, “J-Man, get me the best route?”

“Of course sir,” comes JARVIS's smooth, familiar voice, and Tony smiles a little wider at both the way it always makes something in his chest unclench and the open confusion on Bucky's face.

“J, say hi to Bucky,” he says instead of anything helpful as he pulls out onto the street, glancing between the night traffic and the slight look of wonder on Bucky's face.

“Hello Sergeant Barnes, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” JARVIS says politely, and _god_ Tony has missed him.

It's almost enough to make Tony wish he had booted up the backup of his first AI through the tower itself, instead of just his cars and a couple other auxiliary places, but it had only been a _really_ old version of the code that he'd managed to dig up, stored offline where Ultron couldn't get his claws into it, and JARVIS has _a lot_ to relearn. Plus, Tony doesn't know that he could just take FRIDAY back offline again, that feels rude, she's been doing a great job.

“I, uh, just Bucky is fine,” Bucky replies as his gaze shifts around the car a little awkwardly and Tony decides to finally take pity on him.

“JARVIS is my artificial intelligence,” Tony explains, glancing between Bucky and the road as he cuts across three lanes of traffic, “Sort of like a computer butler.”

"My favorite descriptor," JARVIS says dryly, and Tony huffs out a fond laugh.

Bucky nods slowly, still looking nervous as he asks, “Um Jarvis, you knew who I was? How?”

Tony realizes what JARVIS is about to say a split second before it happens, and there's not a damn thing he can do about it.

“When Project Insight failed and HYDRA’s files were released to the public by Agent Romanoff, Sir captured yours and any pertaining to the Winter Soldier. We followed your digital trail through history and I made a study of you, determining whether you would be a threat to Mr. Stark.”

“And what did you determine?” Bucky asks, and at least he doesn't sound _outwardly_ freaked out, or like he's about to start accusing Tony of building a Skynet, which is actually a pretty common occurrence when people meet JARVIS for the first time.

JARVIS pauses a little, like he's actually considering his answer this time, thinking about possible social repercussions. Tony makes an idle mental note that his AI is growing up so fast even as he resists the urge to tap his fingers nervously, because this is dangerously close to ' _things they don't talk about'_ territory.

“I determined that you were, at the time, 73.85% likely to cause extreme physical harm if Sir was to provoke contact," JARVIS eventually says, "That likelihood has fallen to 23.178% and appears to be lowering with each time you spend together.”

Tony feels his eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, because it was a different version of JARVIS who had originally run those numbers, and he hadn't even known they were _still_ being run. Plus, that's a pretty good number, Tony will absolutely take that.

“Interesting,” Bucky says, and he still doesn't sound like he's thinking about panicking, instead sounds _curious_ as he asks, “What else do you know about me?”

Tony half listens as Bucky and JARVIS continue their conversation, his AI rambling out random facts like the worlds politest spy bot and Bucky acting like that's a normal thing, and Tony is a little bit hopelessly charmed. Especially when Bucky treats it like an actual conversation, even takes the time to say it's _‘nice to know'_ JARVIS, and Tony's heart gives a dangerous lurch.

He's a simple man, okay, and he likes people who are nice to his AIs. It's a thing he accepted about himself a long time ago, and it's the reason he knew Rhodey was a keeper.

... It might be a problem.

Tony barely even notices that they've made it into Brooklyn, and he finds himself surprised when the GPS declares that he's arrived. He manages to find a spot near-ish the curb that he can pull over, and at least they're within sight of the front door.

“Thank you for the ride home,” Bucky says as he twists in his seat a little, facing Tony more fully, and his voice shakes a little as he adds, “And thank you, for earlier, I... I didn’t mean to... to be like that. ”

“It’s fine Bucky, really, I get it,” Tony says quickly, tapping his fingers against the wheel and frowning slightly at himself because he _has_ to be able to come up with something better than that. “Sometimes shit just... catches up to you out of nowhere and it hits harder than you expected it to,” he tries, and he's not sure it's actually an improvement but Bucky nods and reaches out to touch his arm, so at least it wasn't _worse._

“Still, I appreciate it. Tonight was incredible,” Bucky says softly, eyes dark and earnest, “You were perfect for me and I just want to thank you again baby.”

Tony's breath catches a little and he drops his gaze, pretends he needs to check the GPS for some reason as his face heats. Part of him wants to argue again that he didn't really do anything, but part of him also wants to just take the compliment, wants to believe for a little while that he was _perfect._

So he chews on his lip for a second, then looks up at Bucky again and says, “You're welcome sir."

Bucky’s eyes flick down, like maybe he's staring at Tony's mouth, and Tony is momentarily struck with the urge to throw himself across the car, bury his fingers in Bucky's hair again and _finally_ find out what Bucky's lips feel like against his own.

Tony jumps hard at a sudden, loud clap of thunder, heart thudding hard in his chest, and by the time he finishes looking around quickly Bucky has collapsed back against the door and the moment is broken. Which is for the best, Tony is too old to be making out in cars, there is _no reason_ he should be so disappointed about it.

“Right, well," Bucky says with a small smile, "I’ll talk to you later,”

“See you later,” Tony agrees with a nod and an awkward half-wave that he feels like an _idiot_ for immediately after.

Tony watches with a stupid sinking feeling as Bucky climbs out of the car and heads for the door, flushing a little when Bucky looks back and catches him staring. Bucky just grins and waves though, so Tony waves back and then forces himself to drive away.

The warmth of the seat heater is still sinking into him, the radio still playing quietly, but the car suddenly feels a lot more cold and empty than it did on the drive here.

"J, do I _want_ to ask how you're calculating that threat risk these days?" he asks, mostly just in an attempt to distract himself.

"I think we both know you're going to ask anyways, Sir," JARVIS replies, and Tony manages a soft laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written by WhiteIronWolf
> 
> [You can find me @TheRollingStonys on tumblr! Just ask for Mod Stella!](https://therollingstonys.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Join us in our tumblr group chat and get sneak peeks of new chapters, discuss meta and headcanons, and participate in easter egg hunts for spoilers!](https://www.tumblr.com/chat/0_JOa_w6Jki6xyaWadq4Ww/bound-to-you)

Bucky stands staring at the variety of anal hooks the store has, wondering if the one on the left is too big or if the one three spots down is too small or if the purple one is too alien looking, and would it be weird to text Tony a photo and ask _hey how much can you fit in your ass?_

Probably. That’s _probably_ too weird.

He sighs heavily and grabs the big one, one with beads that get progressively bigger, another that’s pretty average size and then one that’s barely as big as his pinkie with a ball at the top.

Variety is the spice of life and all…

Tossing them in his basket, he wanders over to the restraints section and runs a finger over the leather cuffs on display. Tony would look so good in a pair of these, he thinks. He flicks a finger against the D-ring and listens to the ring of the metal, contemplating it for a long moment before he nods and selects a pair that’s adjustable.

He stands for a _very_ long time staring at the collars, picturing what one would look like around Tony’s pretty throat, wondering if Tony would ever accept a collar from him. As much as he likes the idea of Tony wearing one, he strongly suspects that Tony’s past experiences will have tainted anything good about a sub receiving a collar from a dom.

He hopes someday Tony will want to tell him what happened with his previous doms, but he’s not going to push for details. He knows what trauma can do to a person all too well and there are plenty of aspects of d/s and BDSM that either just don’t appeal to him or are so triggering he avoids them as much as he realistically can.

There’s plenty of things he’d like to try with Tony that weren’t options when he was younger—things he’d never heard of or seen before until recently. Always a curious mind, Bucky had been intrigued by some of the porn he’d inevitably watched but disappointed that so much of it was catered to the more pain driven side of BDSM.

Perhaps when he’d been younger he would have enjoyed putting a sub through their paces, but these days he’s far too soul weary to enjoy seeing someone he cares about in pain—even if it’s pain they want.

Things in this century aren’t really that different than the one he grew up in—but the different terminology, tools and even the _ways_ of playing had baffled him when he’d first started looking into just how much things had changed.

When he’d expressed his confusion to Sam over all the new things he’d read about and seen in porn, Sam had immediately laughed at him, teased him about being an old man, and then taken him to a BDSM club outside the city for an introduction course on D/S. From there Bucky had taken more courses on rope tying, suspension bondage, predicament bondage, and various other kinks he’d been interested in or just curious to see.

Still, being Tony’s dom is unlike anything else he’s experienced because everything else has been short lived and furtive pairings in the dark, one offs till he’d met Jerome—he might have loved Jerome if he’d had the chance, but the war had taken the chance at love from him too.

Sighing softly, he rubs at his eyes and casts a glance over the products on the walls, wondering if he needs anything else. There’s a whole section of the store devoted to flogging and crops and whips that he very carefully avoids looking at or going near, so he’s getting close to the front of the store again when he pauses and stares at the display of plugs.

He adds in one that vibrates and has twenty different settings, one that has a hand pump and inflates, a set that are beaded and each one is larger than the last, and then pauses when he sees one that has a base shaped like a star.

It looks almost like the one on his arm and his fingers flex unconsciously as he stares at it.

He adds it to the basket.

When the person at the counter rings him up he barely blinks at the total. A year of living in the future has all but numbed him to inflation and when he thinks back on his childhood he realizes just how much better than so many others he’d had it than he’d realized.

He pauses as he passes a bookstore on his way home, debating if he should really spend more money and then decides, _fuck it_ and wanders in, grateful for the plain black bag his new toys are packaged in.

It’s not overly crowded given that it’s three o’clock on a Tuesday, so he spends half an hour wandering through the various sections and genres till he comes away with a stack of books on world history, _A Brief History of Time_ , and two books about mindfulness and meditation that Sam had suggested.

By the time he’s done and back home his shoulders and back are sore again so he goes about making a pot of tea before laying out his tools on the kitchen table and going to work on arm maintenance. He has to stop twice to throw up from the pain, and distantly he’s grateful he’s not back with Hydra because they’d always used a fire hose to wash him down when he’d gotten sick during his maintenance.

He’s shaking and weak when he’s done, and the pot of mint tea he’d made is taken with him to bed where he sips it slowly and starts reading a book about the Dirty War in South America. It’s a first hand account from a group of women who had their babies stolen and given to “good” Catholic families, and by the time he finishes his tea he’s half asleep, eyes blurring on the page.

He’d love nothing more than to just lay in bed and not move, but he knows he needs to clean up before he sleeps. Bucky forces himself to get up and put the pot back on the stove, put a bookmark in his page, and use the bathroom before he crawls into bed and passes out.

Each day that week is long and arduous and painful—the weather is fluctuating between chilly and rainy and then hot and humid and it’s _killing_ his joints. He doesn’t like working when he’s in this kind of pain, but he needs the money so he swallows down the pills Steve had given him and eats weed cookies every night and tries to ignore it.

By the end of the week the weather is mild and sunny and his joints don’t throb constantly so he counts it as a win. It makes him want to cry sometimes, the things he calls a “win” these days.

Making it through two nights without debilitating nightmares? Win!

Being able to walk down the street without doubling back or checking for a tail every five minutes? Win!

Arm and back and really just his whole fucking body not being in agony for a day? Win!

Bucky takes a deep and shaky breath and rubs a dirty hand over his face. He really needs to get his shit together before tomorrow night when he sees Tony again. The last time he’d upset Tony by talking about his arm and rejecting his help and he doesn’t want a repeat of that this time.

He swipes his hands on his coveralls and wipes away the worst of the grease before he grabs his phone and wireless headphones. The guys don’t care if he’s got his headphones in while he works, he’s basically second in charge after the owner and the quickest mechanic here so he’s able to get away with a lot.

He scrolls through his playlists and then settles on one that’s all classical music by an Italian composer he loves. Taking deep, slow breaths, he lets the music sink into him and relax away some of the tension in his body. When he opens his eyes again he’s a little more centered, a little more calm.

Bucky goes back to work as the music plays, the noise drowning out the clang of tools and chatter of voices in the shop. The excess sensory input fades away and he can feel his shoulders relaxing bit by bit, humming along to his favorite pieces, fingers itching to get his hands on a piano again.

As he fights with the catalytic converters of the Mercedes he’s working on he ponders over how he could make more money. He’s growing tired of his tiny shitty apartment and his yearning for someplace quiet has been growing for a long time now. It aches inside him, this need, and as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, the city doesn’t feel like home anymore.

He’s not sure _anywhere_ feels like home, but he’d at least like the opportunity to find someplace that _could._

When he looks back up again, the shop is empty and it’s dark out. He double checks the work of the guys and then spends an hour typing up notes on their work and doing some billing. The shop operates at a much higher profit rate than it did before he joined, and Bucky is starting to think he could get away with charging more for his work.

Heaving a tired sigh and scrubbing at his eyes, he shuts down the old laptop for the night and gathers his coat and keys and wallet, locks up behind him and starts his walk home. It’s cool out, but his shoulder isn’t aching badly, which is a nice change from the near agony he’d been in earlier this week.

He’s grateful he has the day off tomorrow, even if he does have to work short shifts on Saturday and Sunday. He showers thoroughly when he gets home and then sinks into bed with his tea, laptop and a notebook. For an hour he peruses real estate listings and writes down contact information for the ones he likes and then spends another thirty minutes looking at used cars to buy.

It all feels a little pointless if he can’t start earning more, but that’s a problem he can work on this weekend. He’ll talk to the owner about raising his rates and if necessary he’ll get a second job. There’s plenty of clubs or businesses that need extra security, and it’s not like he sleeps all that well anyway.

Scrubbing at his tired eyes, he sets aside his empty mug, stacking his laptop and notebook beside the bed before flipping off the light and rolling over to his right side. Tugging the blankets up higher, he sighs softly and yawns, body worn and tired and ready for sleep.

He falls asleep quickly and in the morning can’t remember if he dreamed or not, but he feels rested and calm for once, so if he _did_ it wasn’t his usual horror show of endless nightmares. Rolling out of bed, he grabs a pair of shorts and tugs them on, foregoing a shirt while he stretches and does some of the yoga moves that Sam had suggested for his shoulder.

It takes awhile for it to loosen up, but when he’s finally feeling good, he tugs on sneakers and a hoodie before heading out for a run. He keeps the hood up despite the humidity and lets his feet carry him wherever they want and before he knows it he’s standing at the docks where he used to work.

The water doesn’t stink as badly as it used to and the sky is clearer too, and despite all that’s changed in hundred odd years, it’s still very much the same place it was. He turns away slowly, glancing down when the toe of his sneaker catches on something metallic just barely poking through the dirt. Crouching down, he digs into the dirt, brow furrowed as he digs deeper, faded red paint appearing slowly.

He smiles slowly when he realizes that it’s an old toy robot like one he’d had as a child, and he can’t help but think of Tony when he sees the red and gold paint. He rubs his thumb over the face of it and smiles softly, a fond sensation filling his chest. Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that he was a kid, playing in the dirt with Stevie, bruising their knuckles on bully’s faces and getting scolded by his ma for coming to the table with dirt on their hands.

He scrapes his nail over the surface of the metal, frowning when the paint chips off a bit. He tries moving the arm and meets resistance in the forward rotation. It’ll take some work, but he thinks maybe he could fix it.

He pockets the little toy and walks back to his apartment slowly, sweat cooling on his skin, mind a million miles and a hundred years away.

* * *

Bucky gets to the hotel earlier than usual, nerves making his stomach twist. He’s more amped up for this scene than he is for just about any other he’s ever had. The idea of having Tony’s mouth on him has shivers running over his skin and heated _want_ building up in his belly.

He rubs his hands over his thighs and stands up from the chaise, pacing around the confines of the room, his cock plump in his jeans and aching softly with unattended desire. “Fuck,” he whispers, scrubbing his hands over his face as he trembles with need.

He’s never been this way about anyone before. Not even Jerome. He turns sharply on his heel and paces to the window, pushes aside the curtains to stare down at the masses of humanity writhing below. His sniper's eye spots a sharp silver Audi coming up the street and he watches as it turns into the hotel parking garage, utterly certain that it’s Tony.

He lets the curtain fall and turns away, nervously running a hand over his hair, pushing back the long strands from his face. He really needs a trim, he’s starting to look scraggly again and the last thing he wants to do is look like a slob next to the perfection that is Tony.

Running his hands over his shirt, he glances down at the outfit he’d put together. It’s simple, black jeans this time, but he’d paired it with a dark blue T-shirt that shows off his biceps and strains across his chest nicely. His wardrobe is pretty small, but he’s gone to the local goodwill a few times recently and found some new stuff so that he doesn’t look unkempt when he’s with Tony.

He’s never been the type of dom who needs to wear fancy clothes to solidify his status, nor is he one to _demand_ submission. If a sub wants to be with him he expects that his behavior as a dom will _inspire_ submission, just as his sub inspires him to honor that submission and treat it with the reverence it deserves.

And _god,_ the way Tony submits so beautifully to him every time, even when he’s nervous, it makes something in the vicinity of Bucky’s heart clench madly with a deep affection that should _probably_ scare the life out of him, but really only makes him want Tony _more._

He hears the door to the suite open and debates just waiting here, but then his feet are moving without him consciously making the choice and when he steps out into the small sitting area his heart lurches wildly at the sight of Tony, just like it always does.

He’s in a worn Black Sabbath T-shirt layered over a dark grey henley and _goddamn_ the fit of his jeans makes Bucky’s mouth _water._ The feel of his hole beneath Bucky’s mouth comes rushing back and his cock swells in his jeans as he recalls the sounds Tony had made.

Tony flushes and stares back at him, wide eyed and hungry looking and Bucky realizes how intently he’s been staring at Tony, how much of his desire must be shining through, and for a moment he’s tempted to say _fuck it_ and just stride over and kiss the life out of this man.

It’s a momentary thought, here and then gone, as fleeting as the wind, because he knows that taking that liberty without Tony’s express consent could very well shatter this delicate thing between them. Because as much as he wants Tony, he’s deeply aware of how fragile their connection really is.

Tony’s trauma and his own are like mountains of baggage, unseen, but constantly felt.

So he proceeds slowly, unaware he’s stalking forward with a dark, hungry look on his face, smirking faintly when he sees the way Tony’s eyes darken in response. And then he’s right in front of the man and he can see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, the way his pulse flutters in his throat and he has to push away another feral swell of desire that demands he _take_.

He crowds into Tony’s space a little more than usual, hands going to his narrow hips and pulling him in, smirking outright when Tony gasps and goes willingly, hands falling into his broad chest, clutching at Bucky like he’s a lifeline. His hands drift from where they rest on Tony’s hips, reaching back to grab his ass, squeezing and massaging them while Tony gasps in surprise and then moans softly.

“Still need me to kiss it better baby?” he croons, smirking when Tony shakes his head minutely and makes a choked whining sound when Bucky massages his ass again and pulls him forward to grind their hips together. “No?” he asks teasingly, letting his head fall forward so he can brush the tip of his nose against Tony’s.

“I-it’s all gone,” Tony whispers breathily, pupils blown wide and dark. Bucky can hear the shaky inhale he takes before he speaks again, “I miss it,” he admits and Bucky groans, heat surging through his veins.

Pushing forward, he backs Tony up till his shoulders hit the wall and then lets his lips skim over Tony’s cheek, breath hot on his skin. “Fuck baby, I couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made for me all week.” His mouth trails down Tony’s jaw in a simulacra of a kiss, too light to really count, mostly hot breath and the whisper of his words brushing against Tony’s skin.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about how pretty your hole looked all red from my beard, bruised from my mouth, _fuck_ baby, you looked so good like that,” he growls, finally allowing himself to press a real kiss to Tony’s throat.

Tony gasps and arches into him, a shaky whine slipping past his lips as Bucky licks the spot. “Christ baby, you smell so _good_ ,” he whispers hungrily, “just wanna eat you up.”

Tony outright moans at that, hands clutching tighter to Bucky’s chest like he’ll collapse if he lets go. Bucky knows he needs to slow down a little because he can feel Tony shaking and he’s not certain that it’s all arousal. Dropping his head to Tony’s shoulder he takes a few slow breaths and then laughs weakly, “I’m sorry, that was, that was too much huh?” he asks.

Tony laughs softly, and when Bucky forces himself to lift his head and meet his gaze, Tony doesn’t look upset. He _looks_ aroused, with huge pupils and slick red lips, a flush on his cheeks that makes him so fucking tempting Bucky has to bite the inside of his cheek.

“It...kinda?” Tony says questioningly, “It was, um, unexpected, but it was also incredibly _hot_ and, I-I liked it,” he admits quietly. “It’s nice, knowing you want me.”

Bucky laughs and rolls his hips forward so his hard cock presses into Tony’s hip, smirking when Tony’s eyes go wide at the action. “Believe me darlin, wanting you is _not_ the problem,” he murmurs hoarsely. “Me crossing your boundaries like that was not okay.”

Tony hesitates and then makes a prevaricating sound, “I didn’t mind it, really,” he assures Bucky, “it just, it was _sudden_?” he says hesitatingly. “I didn’t think you wanted me that much,” he admits softly, looking away. “I know I’m not a very good sub, but I, I want to be for you.”

 _Fuck_ and now Bucky wants to kiss him senseless. “Hey, Tony, _baby_ ,” he murmurs, lifting a hand to cup Tony’s cheek, smiling softly at him when their gazes meet. “I’m sorry I startled you,” he apologizes sincerely, “I should have had better control so I didn’t scare you. Believe me, I _want_ you,” he admits freely, “but I don’t _ever_ want to make you feel pressured to reciprocate if that’s not what you want. Whether we’re in a scene or not, you should _absolutely_ use your safeword if you need it.”

Tony’s brows furrow, “I wasn’t scared,” he insists, “I just, didn’t expect you to _want_ me so much. I couldn’t figure out if that look you gave me meant you wanted to murder me or fuck me,” he says with a sharp bark of nervous laughter.

Bucky laughs softly and shifts his hand at Tony’s hip back to squeeze his ass again gently, grinning when Tony shudders and blushes. “Believe me darlin, I want to fuck you, but I already told you, I’m not going to till you beg me,” he says, trailing off into a hot whisper at the end.

Tony nods shakily, licking at his lips and Bucky can’t help but let his gaze fall on those lush lips that will be wrapped around his cock. The hand at Tony’s cheek shifts, metal thumb swiping across his bottom lip gently, both of them gasping when Tony’s tongue darts out to lick it.

“ _Fuck,”_ he whispers shakily, “baby, I can’t wait to get your mouth on me.”

Tony makes a soft noise and sucks more of Bucky’s thumb into his mouth, ripping dual moans from them both. Bucky watches, awed and so deeply aroused it _hurts_ as Tony sucks on his thumb, tongue flicking and laving over the rapidly warming surface as his dark eyes hold Bucky in place.

Heat builds in Bucky’s veins as he watches, entranced and shaking, throat as dry as a desert. When he’s sure he’s going to burst, he finally forces himself to pull his hand away, breathing heavily as Tony whines softly and stares up at him with pretty brown eyes saturated in desire.

“Go to the bedroom and get naked,” he orders, “then kneel beside the loveseat and wait for me.”

Tony nods obediently and slides past Bucky, all lithe movement and sinuous limbs. He watches Tony go, gaze glued to his ass, and then once he disappears around the corner exhales deeply, hands shaking by his side. _God_ he’s such a fucking mess—he has no idea how he’s going to last once he gets Tony’s mouth on him.

Taking a long series of slow deep breaths, he steadies himself and then heads into the bedroom. He pauses at the doorway, feral pride rising within him when he sees Tony kneeling by the loveseat, naked and hard. Seeing the bare truth that Tony really _does_ want this has his own cock throbbing in his jeans.

“Look how good you are,” he murmurs, smiling softly when Tony looks up at him sharply, “so good for me, aren’t you?” he asks.

Tony looks unsure for a moment and then nods slowly, hesitantly, “I try sir,” he murmurs.

Bucky hums and walks over to the loveseat where the duffel bag and room service cart is waiting. He goes about getting everything ready; preps the washcloths and lays out the rope, cuffs, and various anal hooks.

When he looks over at Tony he can see wariness on his face, his gaze flickering back and forth between the cuffs and the rope. Bucky grabs his phone and sinks down to the ground next to Tony, reaching out to run his metal fingers over the delicate bones of Tony’s clavicle. “I brought some things for you to choose from this time,” he explains. “I have a set of cuffs here that would look so good on you but if you don’t want to use them, you can tell me,” he assures Tony.

Tony looks at the cuffs for a long moment and then shrugs, face carefully neutral, “Those are fine,” he agrees, keeping his gaze averted from Bucky.

Bucky frowns and gently taps Tony’s chin with his fingers, expression serious when Tony looks up at him with wide, wary eyes. “What did I tell you about lying?” he prompts gently, lifting a questioning brow.

Tony swallows hard and licks his lips, looking nervous as he replies. “Not to do it?”

“And?”

“And... that we won’t do a scene if I don’t tell the truth?”

“Mmhmm. So, you want to try that answer again?”

Tony stares at him warily, shoulders hunched up around his ears like he’s expecting to be hit, bottom lip tucked between his teeth nervously. “I...I don’t want the cuffs,” he says quietly.

“Okay,” Bucky replies easily, smiling encouragingly when Tony stares at him in shock. “Thank you for being honest,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Tony’s cheek before he rises up on his knees and drops the cuffs back into the duffel bag.

He can feel Tony staring at him and when he settles back down, Tony is frowning softly. “I...I can wear them if you really wanted,” he says, every word sounding like it’s being ripped from him.

“Absolutely not,” Bucky says easily, “making you do something you don’t want isn’t okay, and it’s the antithesis of consent. Even if you still told me you wanted to do the scene, it wouldn’t be consensual because you would be doing something you don’t want to, just to appease me. It would make me no better than a rapist Tony, so please don’t ever ask that of me.”

Tony stares at him wide eyed, throat working hard as his eyes glisten for a moment before he blinks rapidly and looks away, nodding slowly. “Uh, yea, okay,” he murmurs.

Bucky shifts and leans back against the loveseat, shoulders brushing Tony’s as they sit quietly for a moment. “Do you still want to do the scene?” he asks gently, “I won’t be angry or hold it against you if you’re not feeling comfortable with the idea anymore.”

Tony shakes his head before Bucky is even done speaking, “No I-I want to,” he says urgently, “I just...don’t want the cuffs.”

Bucky smiles softly and reaches out to pick up Tony’s hand, brushing his lips to Tony’s knuckles, “That’s fine with me baby,” he murmurs, “can I show you how I want to tie you up?” he asks gently, waiting for Tony’s nod before he drops a kiss to his palm and grabs his phone in the other hand.

He keeps ahold of Tony’s hand, gently rubbing his thumb over Tony’s knuckles while he brings up the gif he’d seen and been inspired by. The ropes on the man are red like he’s going to use on Tony and the man even bears a passing resemblance to Tony too, and when he turns the screen to show Tony, he smirks at the choked off sound the other man makes.

“So, I’ll immobilize your hands behind your back, do you think this center rope will put too much pressure on your chest?” he asks. He’d been concerned about that every time he’d tied Tony up, but so far everything had worked out ok.

Tony shakes his head, “It should be fine,” he assures Bucky, “I think unless you wanted to add some kind of weight to it I’d be fine with mostly anything.”

Bucky nods slowly, processing that. “Does it make it harder to breathe when I have you like I did last week? Face down?”

“Not really, there’s some pressure on my lungs when I’m like that, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“You’ll tell me right away if something isn’t comfortable, right?” Bucky asks, gaze steady on Tony.

“I will sir,” Tony murmurs, gaze honest and clear. Bucky studies him for another moment before nodding and tucking his phone away. He rises to his feet and offers Tony a hand, gently pulling him to his feet when he takes it.

Grabbing the rope, he starts with simple ties to create the chest harness and then moves on from there, the smooth feel of the rope passing between his fingers soothing his rough, emotional edges. He can see the tension in Tony’s body easing away too and it allays some of his worries.

He steps back in front of Tony and winds the rope around his hips, smirking when Tony gasps and shudders at the caress of the rope on his cock. Bucky loops it around his back and then ties a knot, repeating it thrice more before Tony’s cock is tied up and pressed to his belly, hard and shining at the tip.

Bucky runs a finger over the rope encapsulated cock, smirking when it throbs and tries to twitch, but it’s held too securely to do more than throb uselessly and leak. “Mmm look at you baby, like a pretty present for me to play with,” he murmurs, smile all teeth as Tony shudders and whines.

“How do the ropes feel?” he asks, running his fingers over the knots carefully, “anything pinching or painful?” Tony shakes his head almost immediately, eyes glazed over with desire, lips red and wet from being bitten.

“No sir, feels good,” he sighs out breathily, a little dreamy sounding.

Bucky smirks and nods, “Good.” He backs away and sits down on the loveseat, thighs slightly spread and then pats a knee, “Come here and lay over my lap baby, I’ve got to get that pretty hole ready.”

Tony makes a choked sound and his cock throbs in its bindings, pearly pre cum beading at the tip. Nodding eagerly, he takes a step forward and then gasps, shuddering to a halt when the ropes press and rub into his cock. Bucky watches intently as he shakes and pants—the few steps of distance between them must seem like _miles_ to Tony, knowing how each one is going to torture him in the sweetest way.

Tony’s approach is slow and halting and by the time he lays himself over Bucky’s lap he’s trembling and moaning softly. Bucky runs a hand up and down his back, hushing him softly, “Take a nice deep breath baby,” he encourages, crooning his approval when Tony obeys immediately.

He slides his hand into Tony’s hair and rubs gently at his scalp, smiling softly when Tony moans and trembles. “That’s it baby, you’re doing so good for me. You’re so sweet darlin,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to the nape of Tony’s neck.

“Thank you sir,” Tony gasps out, tiny shivers running over his skin.

“Now you just lay nice and still and I’ll get you ready, okay?”

Tony nods and then sighs out _yes sir_ and Bucky can’t help but drop another kiss to his neck. “Good boy,” he whispers, lips brushing against Tony’s skin before he pulls away.

Reaching to his right, he grabs the lube and carefully squirts out enough to cover two fingers. Using his left hand, he spreads Tony’s cheeks and bites the inside of his cheek to muffle his groan, “God baby, look at you, so pretty and pink.”

Tony makes a soft sound of embarrassment and shoves his face into the fabric of the loveseat, squirming in his ropes. Bucky is tempted to make him say thank you for the compliment, but then Tony does it all on his own, whispering it out in a soft breathy voice that makes Bucky’s gut clench with need.

He uses one slick finger to rub across Tony’s hole, grinning sharply when Tony shudders and moans, hole contracting and spasming as he rubs it over and over again. “Look how sensitive you are,” he marvels, pushing at the ring of muscle till his finger slides inside, steady and slick and all the way up to his last knuckle.

Tony gasps loudly, wriggling for a moment before settling, his breaths coming in wet panting gasps. His hole clutches at Bucky’s finger and the heat of him has Bucky letting out his own moan. “God, baby, you feel fucking _amazing_ ,” he groans.

He pumps his finger into Tony slowly, the slick warm clench of it sending shuddering waves of heat through him. Tony pants and moans, hips hitching backwards and then down sharply and Bucky hisses when he realizes Tony is trying to get friction on his cock from the rope.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you?” he whispers hoarsely, caressing Tony’s ass with his metal hand while he gives another lazy thrust of his finger.

“Please! Sir!”

Tony’s warbling cry is music to Bucky’s ears, gut writhing with desire and cock throbbing with need in his jeans. He pulls his finger back and then presses in the second alongside it, pressure firm and steady as he sinks into Tony’s body. Tony moans and shakes, hole clenching down hard on his fingers and Bucky can’t help the groan that slips past his teeth.

“Damn baby, you open up so sweet for me,” he murmurs, thrusting his fingers into Tony slowly, the wet squelching sound lewd and delicious. “You stretch out so nicely baby, take it so good,” he whispers in awe, “I hope I get to see you all wrapped around my cock someday.”

Tony gasps loudly at that, “Sir!” he whines, thighs trembling, but still, he doesn’t beg for it like Bucky thought he might.

“Hmm? Got something to say darlin?” he teases, pushing his fingers in a little harder and then focuses on Tony’s prostate just to hear what sound he’ll make. Tony’s body goes rigid like he’s been struck by lightning, thighs shaking as he pants and moans, and _damn_ that’s a beautiful sight. “You're sensitive here, huh?” he asks, smirking when he rubs on it again and Tony lets out a choked off wail of pleasure, face burying in the fabric of the loveseat to muffle his strained voice.

Heat and pressure seem to fill Bucky’s veins, heady and intoxicating like he’s high as a fucking kite and his head is absolutely _swimming_ in dom space already, just from this. “God baby, you don’t even know what you do to me,” he rasps out, voice hoarse and lustful.

Tony moans and quivers, gasping for breath and Bucky can’t help himself, he slips in a third finger and then very nearly comes in his pants at the high, shaky cry it rips from Tony’s throat. “Sir! Oh-god, oh _sir!_ ” Tony gasps out, ass pulsing around his fingers and Bucky can’t help the groan that rises from his chest.

He fucks Tony with his fingers, using his free hand to squirt out a little more lube and then flushes deep down his throat, all the way to his chest at the utterly _filthy_ sounds Tony makes in response to the slow wet glide of his fingers inside him.

He eventually has to force himself to stop because this isn’t the plan and as much as he wants to make Tony come— _god he wants to make Tony come—_ he needs to stick to the plan. And so, he pulls his fingers free, hushing Tony’s whine of protest and then carefully lifts him up to his feet.

Keeping a careful, steady grip on Tony’s elbow, he pulls the cushion off the loveseat and arranges it between his spread thighs before guiding Tony down and once more checking the ropes. “How you feel baby? What’s your color?” he asks, clean fingers petting gently at Tony’s hair.

Tony leans heavily into the touch and Bucky suspects that he’s already in subspace, if not very close at the least. “Green sir,” he murmurs, smiling up at Bucky adoringly.

“Good, that’s good baby. Now, I need you to focus and let me know which hook you’d like inside you,” he instructs. He waits for Tony’s steady nod and then lifts up the first one—thin and small, it’s the easiest of all of them.

Tony wrinkles his nose and shakes his head and Bucky can’t help but laugh fondly at his adorable face. “Okay, how about this one?” he asks, holding up the average size one—it’s about three inches around and four or five long, but again, Tony shakes his head _no._

When he holds up the beaded hook Tony’s breath rushes out in a sharp gasp and he nods frantically, “Yes, that one, please sir,” he murmurs, just shy of begging and _god_ Bucky can’t wait to hear him beg for real.

“Okay baby, you sit still and I’m going to put it in and connect it to your hands,” he tells Tony, waiting for a nod before he gets up and comes around to crouch behind Tony, pushing between his shoulder blades till he’s pressed into the loveseat and his ass is up enough that Bucky can see his glistening hole.

He pushes two fingers in just to hear him moan and pumps them gently for a moment before pulling them free with a wet sucking sound and then starts guiding the hook into Tony. The first three beads pop in easily enough and Tony shakes and moans with each one, panting and whining as the fourth and fifth beads bully past his rim.

When it’s settled in place Bucky loops a strand of rope through the ties at Tony’s wrists and then knots it around the end of the hook. It jostles inside Tony and he’s treated to the sight of Tony’s hole spasming and clenching as he moans and shifts, arms squirming and tugging till Bucky runs a hand up his back and hushes him.

He carefully guides Tony into a sitting position, ass on his heels, and then sits down in front of him, thighs spread wide. He grabs _A Brief History of Time_ from his duffle and sets it aside before turning his attention back to Tony.

He’s pink and flushed, hair already sticking to his brow as he pants and squirms, cock leaking and staining the ropes that hold him in place. Bucky lifts a shaking hand to cup his cheek, awed and deeply aroused by Tony’s reaction to the hook. “You’re so gorgeous like this baby, _fuck_ ,” he chokes out, throat thick with emotion. “Perfect,” he breathes, “my perfect baby.”

Tony moans softly and leans into his hand, eyes falling shut as he whispers _thank you sir, thank you_ , looking as beatific as any renaissance angel. Bucky would gladly worship at his feet if given the chance. Clearing his throat and pushing away the heavy emotion, he tilts Tony’s chin and taps his cheek gently, smiling when he opens his eyes and meets Bucky’s gaze.

“Hey there lovely,” he croons, “I’m going to get my cock out and you’re going to keep it nice and warm in your pretty mouth, aren’t you?”

Tony nods enthusiastically, lips already parting and Bucky groans deeply, tracing his thumb over the wet, red skin of his lower lip. “That’s right, just like that my good boy,” he encourages. “You’re going to sit and be quiet while I read, and if you’re good you’ll get to make me come.”

Tony nods and rubs his cheek against Bucky’s hand, “I’ll be good sir, promise,” he murmurs breathily, eyes dark and eager. “So good for you.”

Bucky smiles and nods, “I know you will baby, you’re my sweetheart.” To his surprise Tony looks bashful at the pet name, his expression sweet and hopeful. “That’s right baby, you’re my sweetheart,” he murmurs, “so you’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?”

Tony nods again, enthusiastically, “Yes sir,” he whispers, what looks like adoration shining in his eyes as he stares up at Bucky.

“Good,” he croons, petting Tony’s hair one last time before he removes his hand and then unzips his jeans, pausing when he realizes that he hadn’t warned Tony about the fact that he’s uncut and fairly large. He debates not saying anything at all, but ultimately, he can’t allow himself to lie, even if it’s by omission—not to Tony, not when he’s worked so hard to gain his trust.

“Baby?” he murmurs, smiling softly when Tony meets his gaze. “So uh, I gotta warn you, my...I’m not circumcised,” he says baldly, “and I’m not exactly small either,” he says with a faint laugh. “If uh, if you don’t want to keep going we can do something else, I can edge you again maybe.”

Tony’s brows pull down into a frown and he looks thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head, “No sir, I want it,” he murmurs, expression going soft and sweet as he gives Bucky big pleading eyes, “Please sir?”

Tony leans in and gasps when the hook pulls deep inside him, but he keeps going nonetheless and nuzzles his face _into Bucky’s cock._ Bucky gasps, hand flying to Tony’s hair as he breathes out, hot and wet against the seam of Bucky’s jeans, the heat of it sinking through the fabric and onto his cock.

“Please sir? Can I have it?” Tony asks, voice sweet and pleading, lips pressing against Bucky’s cock through his jeans, mouthing at it wetly, eyes glazed and dark already.

“Fuck, you’re already down aren’t you baby?” Bucky whispers hoarsely, running his fingers through Tony’s hair. God he must have sunk into subspace like a _rocket_ if he’s already this sweet, Bucky thinks, awed and so turned on he can barely breathe.

Tony whines softly and nods, nuzzling at his cock again, “Please sir, I’ll be so good,” he promises, eyes wide and pleading, “Can I have it?”

Bucky has the split second thought that he would give Tony _anything_ if he asked for it like that, and then he’s nodding frantically, “Fuck yea sweetheart, you can have it.” Tony shifts back a little as he groans and works his cock out of his briefs, “All for you baby, it’s all yours,” he promises hotly.

It twitches in his hand, red and aching from confinement, and leaking just a bit at the tip. Reaching out with his other hand, he clasps the nape of Tony’s neck and gently guides him forward, a raw gasp of pleasure falling from his lips when Tony’s mouth opens willingly and slides down his cock.

“ _Christ,”_ he moans, watching as Tony’s mouth spreads wider, lips going taut as they sink further and further down Bucky’s cock till his nose is pressed to Bucky’s recently trimmed pubic hair. “Fuck, baby, look at you,” he gasps in awe, voice hoarse with lust,“can you breathe like that?” he asks, aware that Tony has most of his cock down his throat.

Tony nods minutely and hums, that beatific look back on his face. He’s almost certainly deep into subspace now and Bucky is floating away in dom space with every second that passes. “Ok, if you need a break, I want you to snap your fingers twice, can you do that for me now?” he orders gently, nodding, pleased when Tony does it right away.

“Good, that was perfect sweetheart. Now, you just stay still and keep my cock nice and warm and wet in that pretty mouth, okay?”

Tony hums and nods again, pretty long lashes fluttering as he peers up at Bucky, eyes dark and shining.

Bucky’s thighs go taut at the rush of pleasure up his spine from the vibrations and he hisses out “Oh _fuck,”_ vehemently, swallowing hard and taking a few deep breaths before he’s ready to read aloud. His hands only shake a little when he picks up the book, but his voice trembles as he starts to read, pleasure leaving him breathless.

He pets his fingers through Tony’s hair as he reads, a sense of calm sinking into him, the constant warm grasp of Tony’s mouth softening his spine till he’s slumped back against the back of the loveseat, everything just slightly blurred around the edges.

Bucky groans when he feels Tony swallow, and when he looks down he can see his own cock twitch in Tony’s mouth. Drool is already starting to trail down Tony’s chin and he restrains the urge to fuck up into his mouth, letting his head fall back so he can take a few slow breaths.

He knew it would be intense, having Tony’s mouth on him, and it is, but _god,_ it’s not just the sight of him, it’s the _feel_ and the _sound_ too. Tony makes soft happy noises in his throat occasionally that then vibrate up Bucky’s cock and reside in his gut, little burning coals that blow the blaze inside him higher.

He turns the pages of the book, barely aware of the words he’s reading, fingers trembling at the onslaught of sensation. He continues petting Tony’s hair and glancing down occasionally to stare at the way Tony’s lips are crimson red, slick with spit and stretched wide around his cock.

He looks positively euphoric; eyes closed in pleasure, tension in his brow and shoulders gone, the very corners of his lips curled up in what is unmistakably a smile. Pulling his hand from Tony’s hair, he lowers shaking fingers to trace Tony’s lips, groaning softly.

Tony opens his eyes slowly, lashes fluttering like butterflies before they open and he peers up at Bucky. “God baby, you look so beautiful like this, thank you,” he whispers, “thank you for letting me use your pretty mouth.”

Tony’s lips curl into a wider smile, eyes wrinkling at the edges and he hums, nuzzling his nose into Bucky’s pubic bone, clearly pleased with the praise. Bucky groans at the sight and sensation, curling forward as it sends a sharp pulse of pleasure through him.

He rests his forehead against the mop of Tony’s hair and rolls his hips forward incrementally, gasping out a choked moan as Tony swallows around him. “Fuck sweetheart, your _mouth,”_ he groans, trembling as he struggles not to fuck into Tony’s mouth again.

He rests there for a long while, feeling them breathing together, the tiny quiet wet sounds of Tony’s mouth and the shivery whimpers from his throat when his arms shift and tug on the hook making Bucky’s gut burn with need. “Does that feel good baby?” he whispers, gritting his teeth when Tony hums and whimpers again in agreement.

Shuddering, he sits back and takes deep shaky breaths before picking up the book and continuing where he left off. When he pauses to take a break and sip at some water, he gently guides Tony off his cock, hissing at the cool air that washes over the hot sensitive skin.

When Tony mewls at the loss and tries to lean in to get Bucky’s cock back, he curses and keeps him back, holding the water bottle to his lips instead. “Here baby, have a sip of water for me,” he murmurs, gently tipping Tony’s head back so a dribble of water falls into his open mouth.

He gets a few more swallows into Tony and then takes another for himself before setting the bottle aside. Smiling softly, he cups Tony’s cheek and tilts his head so their gazes can meet; Tony’s starry eyed and dazed. “Hey honey, what’s your color?” he asks gently, thumb caressing Tony’s cheekbone.

“Green, s’green sir,” Tony murmurs, slurring softly.

“Yea? Anything pinching? How are your knees doing?”

Tony’s brows furrow and he ponders the question for a long moment before shaking his head, “Feels good sir...I’m good.” He smiles at Bucky then, lips wet and shiny and so so _red,_ and Bucky bites his cheek, forcing himself not to lean in and kiss him.

Bucky rubs his cheek again and smiles back, “Okay baby, I’m gonna put you back on my cock and you’re gonna stay there till I decide I’m ready to come. If you keep being so good you get to decide if you want me to come down your throat or on your face, okay?”

Tony looks dazed for a minute and then nods disjointedly, “I, I’ve been good sir?” he asks hopefully, dark eyes bright and shining.

“So good baby, you’ve been perfect,” Bucky assures him, leaning in to press a kiss to his sweaty brow. He inhales and makes a soft noise at the scent of sweat and coconut—Tony’s shampoo maybe. “My sweetheart, you’re so good for me,” he murmurs, dropping another kiss before pulling back and smiling at Tony.

“C’mere now,” he murmurs, slotting a hand around the nape of Tony’s neck and pulling him forward gently. Tony’s mouth opens eagerly, eyes heavy and dark as Bucky feeds his cock into Tony’s mouth. He groans as that wet heat encapsulates him again, moaning when Tony gives a suck at it and laves his tongue along the shaft.

“Huh uh baby, no taking what you want without asking,” Bucky scolds breathlessly, “you just keep my cock nice and wet and be good,” he admonishes. Tony hums sadly and wriggles in his ropes, clearly disatisfied, and then gasps and gags on Bucky’s cock when the anal hook tugs and shifts inside him.

Tony pulls back slightly on his cock, breathing heavily, eyes fallen shut as he seemingly struggles between sensations. He shifts and whines and then shudders, going very very still for a long moment before swallowing and sliding his head forward again to take Bucky’s cock deeper.

Bucky stares in awe at the way Tony has settled himself without Bucky having to guide him, how he’s holding still but trembling with want, sweat beaded on his brow. He traces the bone of Tony’s temple, fingers shaking softly. “Sweetheart...that was _perfect,”_ he croons, “my perfect boy.”

Tony shifts slightly at the praise, keening as the hook catches and rubs, a shudder running over his body as he breathes heavily. His brow is furrowed and there’s tension in his body from holding himself still, so Bucky leans back and picks up the book once more.

He reads slowly, hand petting Tony’s hair, feeling it everytime Tony shifts, trembles, whines and then settles. He can almost smell the desperation coming from the other man, and his own cock is throbbing, leaking into Tony’s mouth and he wants so badly to come it makes it nearly impossible to concentrate.

Eventually his voice is shaking so badly he can’t continue, not with the incremental little thrusts he’s been allowing himself and not with the way Tony has begun whining and shifting more frequently. He can see wetness on Tony’s lashes and suspects that if he pushes any longer to keep Tony still that the desperation he feels might turn bad and have him susceptible to drop.

He sets aside the book and brushes his knuckles against Tony’s cheek, “Baby, open your eyes,” he orders, smiling when they flutter open a moment later. “Good boy.” Tony hums and squirms and then moans, and Bucky hushes him, “I know baby, I know. You’ve been so good for me darlin, so good.”

Twining his fingers through Tony’s hair, he tugs gently and smirks when Tony’s eyes roll back and a lewd moan vibrates out of him. “That’s it baby, now, do you want me to come down your throat or on your face?” he asks, “snap your fingers once for your throat and three times for your face.”

Tony’s brow screws up for a moment and then a moment later he snaps just once, eyes half open as he peers up at Bucky expectantly.

“Very good baby. Now, you can come too if you want, but you’re going to have to rub your pretty cock off against my leg and tug on that hook if you want it,” he warns, “if you wanna get off, you have to _work_ for it.”

Tony moans enthusiastically and nods minutely, already shifting his shoulders eagerly.

“Good boy. Now, I’m gonna fuck your mouth nice and slow, if you need a break it’s two snaps, okay?”

Tony nods again, spit dripping off his chin, eyes unfocused and dazed.

Bucky swallows hard and shifts his leg till it’s between Tony’s thighs and then presses forward till Tony whines and bucks his hips, moan garbled around Bucky’s cock. “Go on now baby, rub yourself off,” he instructs, panting a little as he rolls his hips slowly and fucks his cock into Tony’s mouth.

They both moan, Tony’s muffled slightly and wet sounding, and Bucky groans at the sensation of it on his cock and thrusts again, forcing himself to keep his eyes open as he watches his cock glide past Tony’s lips over and over again.

Tony grinds himself against Bucky’s leg, moaning and drooling, breathing heavily as he rocks back into the hook and then forward into Bucky’s leg. He’s the prettiest picture of submission, beautiful in his debauchery and Bucky groans, cock pulsing with the urge to fuck into his mouth harder.

Blazing heat surges into his veins as he watches the way Tony chases his pleasure, utterly lost to sensation, slurping and sucking at Bucky’s cock all the while. Despite being distracted by his own pleasure, Tony’s mouth is still devilishly clever, sucking and licking as Bucky thrusts his hips in a steady rhythm.

Spit spills down the corner of Tony’s mouth, dripping onto his chest, but he doesn’t seem to care, too lost in the way he’s grinding his cock into Bucky’s leg. He’s whining on every roll of his hips, and the vibrations of it paired with the suction and wet heat has Bucky’s eyes rolling back in his head.

The swell of pleasure inside him snaps and he lets his head fall back onto the firm fabric behind him, trembling as he comes down Tony’s throat. To his credit, Tony keeps sucking and bobbing his head after Bucky has gone lax, the constant stimulation milking his cock and keeping him hard.

Bucky is barely aware of the raw, desperate cries falling from his lips, hips jolting up to meet Tony’s mouth without any thought. Pleasure sears through him so sharply it makes him sob—fucking serum, he thinks, amplifying every sensation till he’s shaking and on the razors edge again.

He peels his eyes open and looks down at Tony, groaning when he sees how red in the face he is, how desperate he looks as he grinds his cock forward, over and over again, whimpering and whining as he shakes in his bindings.

Bucky pulls him off his cock and gives him two fingers to suck on instead, “Cmon baby, come for me,” he grits out, taking his slick, red cock into hand and jerking off hard and fast.

Tony’s eyes slit open and he mewls around Bucky’s fingers, ass grinding down into Bucky’s foot to push the hook deeper before he humps into Bucky’s shin. “That’s it sweetheart, make yourself come,” he pants out, hand flying over his cock.

Tony sucks on his fingers and nods weakly, half a sob falling from his lips as his movements grow jerky and uncoordinated, his moaning cries growing louder and breathier as he gets closer to coming.

“C’mon baby, come all over me,” Bucky orders, just the barest hint of Dom command in his voice and that’s it—Tony shouts around his fingers, body jerking and spasming as he comes. His eyes roll back in his head and Bucky curses as heat surges in his belly.

He fists Tony’s hair and holds his head back, watching as the man trembles and moans Bucky’s name, euphoria on his face as he keeps coming. Bucky jerks his cock harder, grip tightening until it aches deep down into his gut and then, with a gritted out cry of Tony’s name, he comes.

He directs it onto Tony’s face, moaning when Tony’s mouth opens automatically, a whining plea in his throat as Bucky shifts his aim to Tony’s mouth.

“Fuck yea, oh _god_ baby, _look_ at you,” he groans, jerking his cock harder. “Sweetheart you’re a goddamn angel,” he hisses out, shuddering and moaning as his cock prickles with oversensitivity.

“Ah, ah, _fuck,”_ he gasps, shaking and sweating and _weak_ as his strokes slow and the last of his cum falls on Tony’s chin and throat. His cock aches from his tight grip, sensitive and red and still half hard as he collapses back against the loveseat.

“ _Fuck.”_

They’re both breathing in huge heavy gasps, the sound of them filling the room around them. Bucky’s fingers loosen in Tony’s hair and he groans as Tony shudders and whines softly, head sinking forward out of Bucky’s grasp to hang limply over his chest.

Bucky takes all of thirty seconds to sit there breathing before he tucks his cock away with shaking hands and then hurries to get up off the couch. He gets a washcloth wet in one of the bowls and wrings it out before he crouches beside Tony and rubs his fingers over Tony’s bicep to get his attention.

“Gonna clean you up now baby, close your eyes,” he orders, “good boy,” he murmurs when Tony obeys immediately. He’s gentle as he wipes his cum off Tony’s face, gut clenching once more in possessive delight at how _good_ Tony had looked like that.

He tosses the rag aside and then begins undoing the ropes, untethering the rope from the anal hook first before he moves on and frees Tony’s arms. He rubs them firmly, so the blood flows properly and muscle relaxes as Tony whines and sways, clearly exhausted.

“Shh, I know baby, almost done. Then we can nap,” he murmurs, fingers picking apart knots and unwinding the rope from Tony’s torso. When his fingers brush Tony’s limp cock the other man gasps and arches into it for a beat before shuddering and rocking away, clearly overstimulated.

“It’s ok honey, almost done, there, now, let me wipe you down.”

His hands are steady as he grabs the other cloth and then carefully and quickly wipes down Tony’s torso and between his legs. He’s gentle as he guides Tony to lean against his chest, “Last thing baby, gotta get that out of you, okay?” he murmurs, fingers running soothingly down Tony’s spine.

Tony nods weakly and moans when Bucky starts working the hook out, the beads popping out one at a time with a slick wet sound that makes Bucky’s throat go thick with desire and has his cock valiantly trying to rouse. Tony’s breath hitches on a sob as the toy finally slides free of his body, his muscles going tense and then suddenly slack.

Bucky sets the toy on the used cloths and leaves it there, shifting to wrap and arm around Tony’s shoulders, the other going behind his knees before he stands and lifts Tony as easily as he would a toddler.

The other man clings to him, making soft sleepy sounds of happiness, eyes closed but a smile on his lips. Bucky tucks him into the sheets he’d turned back earlier and then steps back to kick off his boots and peel off his stained jeans.

He flicks off the lights in the room and crawls into bed beside Tony, a soft happy noise in his throat as he gathers Tony into his arms. “You did so good baby,” he whispers, “it’s time to rest now.”

Tony hums and snuggles closer and Bucky falls asleep listening to his slow, steady breathing.

* * *

He wakes all at once, suddenly aware and alert. Hair tickles his nose and he realizes that he’s spooned up behind Tony, the scent of sex and coconut and sweat in his nose. He inhales deeper, and then jolts when Tony’s soft voice asks wryly, “Are you _sniffing_ me?”

Bucky laughs weakly, “You smell fantastic sweetheart, I can’t help it.”

Tony rolls over to face him, teeth white in the grey light of the room as he grins. “I stink like sex,” he comments, low and rough, but then slides closer and inhales against Bucky’s skin and he’s so shocked that he shivers at the intimate touch. “So do you,” Tony adds, shifting his head on the pillow till he’s able to meet Bucky’s gaze.

“Guess I made a mess of your pants,” he murmurs, sounding embarrassed as he nudges his bare knee against Bucky’s.

Bucky hums and shifts a hand between them, fingers tracing over Tony’s face and mouth, “Mmm yea well, figure I made a mess outta you, so it’s only fair.” His enhanced sight can spot the faint flush on Tony’s cheeks and he strokes his fingers over it gently. “You looked so gorgeous all covered in my cum,” he whispers, voice low and hoarse.

Tony shivers and breathes out unsteadily, “I liked it,” he admits, and there’s a rough catch to his voice, like his throat is raw and dry, “I liked being marked by you.”

Bucky groans and feels his cock throb between his legs, growing thicker. _“Fuck_ Tony, thinking about you last week with my marks on your ass was bad enough,” he says with a shaky laugh, “I dunno how I’m gonna make it through this week remembering how you look when you have my cum all over you.”

Tony makes a low noise and shifts up against him and he can feel Tony’s cock is warm and plump, not hard yet, but the promise is there. He slings his arm over Tony’s waist and presses his brow to Tony’s, breathing unsteadily as they stare at each other in the gloom of darkness.

Brushing his fingers through Tony’s hair, he closes his eyes and forces himself to be still, to just breathe, to try and let this pulsing desire within him cool and abate. Tony’s hand slides over his hip and up his back, tracing what feels like mathematical equations into his skin.

They stay like that for a long time, till they’re both breathing slow and steady, bodies pressed together warmly, but without the pulse pounding desire that had threatened to consume them earlier.

“Stay here,” he instructs, “I’ll be right back.”

Tony nods, forehead still pressed to Bucky’s, “Okay,” he whispers, eyes dark and wide, watching him as he slides away and rises from the bed.

He cleans up while the food heats in the microwave and grabs the pair of sweatpants he’d brought with him just in case and tugs those on over his briefs. When the microwave beeps he carefully brings the plate over on the tray, the scent of chicken piccata making his stomach growl.

He turns on one of the bedside lamps after giving Tony a soft word of warning and slides back into bed with him, balancing the tray easily before sliding it into Tony’s lap. Tony cuts into the chicken eagerly and hums at the first bite, then winces slightly when he swallows, as if his throat is raw and sore and heat tries to curl in Bucky’s gut again. He shoves it down roughly as Tony nods his approval before holding out a forkful for Bucky.

Smiling widely, he takes the bite and hums his agreement, licking the sauce off his lips while Tony takes another bite. They trade bites until the plate is clean and Bucky clears the tray away, grabbing Tony’s briefs off the armchair on his way back. He smiles softly as Tony squirms back into them and then pats the bed beside him, “Debrief time, right?” he asks lightly.

Bucky nods and slides back into bed, trying to hide how eager he is to be here, beside Tony. “Are you up?” he asks first, “how are you feeling?”

Tony nods and smiles softly, “Good. Worn out, but very very good,” he assures Bucky and then clears his throat and laughs softly, cheeks pink as he adds “Throat’s kinda sore, but, also good.” The sparkle in his eye and the loose limbed sensuality of his body echoes his words—he has the look of a well fucked sub and it makes Bucky want to shout with pride.

 _He_ did that, _he_ took care of his sub and made him feel good and it’s the _best_ goddamn feeling in the world. (Aside from coming down Tony’s throat that is.) He forces his attention back to Tony and nods, “Good, I’m glad I could make you feel good,” he murmurs, some of his perpetual worry that he’s a shitty dom fading away.

“So, what did you like about what we did?” he asks Tony, shifting back to lay against the pillows with a hand behind his head.

Tony’s gaze fixes on his bicep for a long moment, licking his lips before he blushes and looks away. “I uh, all of it?” he says with a weak laugh. He turns his gaze back to Bucky, “The hook was,” he pauses and swallows hard, _“so good._ It was absolute _torture_ to feel it shift inside me and to have to hold still.”

Bucky nods and reaches out with his metal hand to stroke idly at the skin of Tony’s hip where deep marks from the rope lie. He can feel it when Tony’s breath hitches at the touch and just lifts a brow, smirking faintly. “Anything else?”

Tony huffs and scrubs his hands over his face, “You just want to hear how much I liked sucking your cock, don’t you?” he accuses with a laugh.

Bucky grins and shakes his head, “Nah, not unless it’s true,” he says, lifting a brow to silently remind Tony of the rule on honesty.

Tony stares at him thoughtfully and then blushes, “I like that I had to just be something for you to use, to keep your cock hard and wet,” he admits softly, “I like that I got to be...useful,” he adds hesitantly, peeking up from under his lashes at Bucky.

There’s that word again.

He’d said it before and Bucky strongly suspects that whoever was Tony’s dom before had made it clear to Tony that he was useless and a bad sub—two things that are just plain _wrong._ He rubs Tony’s hip soothingly with his thumb, thoughtful about his response. “I’m glad you liked it,” he replies, “you were absolutely perfect for me sweetheart. The way you rubbed off on me, moaning and desperate for it,” he shakes his head and swallows hard, _“perfect.”_

Tony blushes and ducks his head, lips curled in a soft, self satisfied little smile. “Thank you sir,” he whispers. “I’m glad I finally got to make you come,” he says a little louder, “I...you were…” he blushes again and the next words tumble out so quickly Bucky would have missed them if he didn’t have the serum.

“YouweresohotjerkingoffonmyfaceandIreallylikeditifyoueverwanttodoitagain.”

Heat curls through Bucky and he smirks softly, fingers skirting around the scars that surround the arc reactor as they trail up Tony’s bare chest to brush his thumb teasingly over a nipple, grin sharp when Tony gasps softly and arches into it. “Yea? You like being marked with my cum?” he asks, words inches from being a growl.

Tony nods enthusiastically, cheeks pink as he bites his lip. “Yes sir.”

“You like being marked as _mine?”_ Bucky whispers harshly, heat in his voice and his veins. He plucks at Tony’s nipple and feels a thrill of delight at the way Tony gasps and squirms.

“ _Sir,”_ he whispers, sounding weak and needy.

“Did you like it?” Bucky pushes, hand shifting to toy with the other nipple while Tony squirms in place, panting softly. He pinches it lightly and rolls it between his fingers, watching intently as Tony shudders, eyes going heavily lidded.

“Yes, yes sir, I...I liked it,” he finally admits, rough voice trembling. He pants for a moment and then covers his face with his hands, trembling beside Bucky.

Fear starts to creep in—maybe he pushed too hard. Ugly self doubt and recriminations are starting build and then Tony laughs hoarsely, voice cracking, “God, I loved it,” he whispers. “Y-you made me feel special and wanted and—”

His voice cuts off and he wipes at his face, eyes bright and shining and lips trembling as he smiles widely at Bucky. “Thank you,” he murmurs intently, hand lifting to cover Bucky’s where it had fallen to rest at his hip. “ _Thank you,”_ he whispers solemnly, and Bucky feels like he’s being thanked for far more than Tony is saying.

Bucky nods and flips his hand over so he can wrap his metal fingers around Tony’s wrist, thumb stroking over the surprisingly delicate bones gently. “You’re welcome sweetheart,” he murmurs.

They lay like that for a while, until Bucky’s hearing picks up on the loud collision of two cars, the honking and yelling probably faint to Tony, but clearly audible for him. He sighs heavily and shakes his head, “You ever wish you could get away?” he finds himself asking.

Tony lifts a brow, grinning, “I travel like three times a month for work, I get away way more than I’d like.”

Bucky shakes his head, “No, that’s not what I mean,” he says with a faint frown, “I mean, wouldn’t you like to get away from the city, to a place that’s quiet and yours and there’s no traffic or shouting or _anything,”_ he says wistfully.

Tony lifts a brow, “Sounds like you could use a vacation,” he says teasingly.

Bucky nods and laughs ruefully, “Yea maybe,” he agrees softly, gaze falling away from Tony’s.

There’s a long moment of silence and then Tony’s fingers touch his T-shirt covered chest, barely brushing the material before they splay out against his breastbone. He looks up in surprise and finds Tony studying him intently, eyes sharp and intelligent.

“Are you okay Bucky?”

There’s no hint of judgement in his voice, only concern and what sounds like affection, and the combination has his throat going thick with a rush of unexpected emotion.

He ducks his chin as his breathing goes shaky and his vision blurs, the knot in his chest that he’s been carrying around for _years_ loosening just an inch, but it’s enough to set loose a tidal wave of emotion.

“I’m just _tired,”_ he chokes out, scrubbing his hand over his face as he takes a shuddering breath. “I’m tired of everything being loud all the time, and crowded, and feeling fucking _trapped_ by this goddamn city.” He looks up at Tony with tired eyes and a weary soul and smiles shakily, “I’m just tired,” he whispers, lips trembling as he tries to keep the smile up.

Tony makes a sound low in his throat and then suddenly he’s got an armful of warm body and Tony is pushing him back into the pillows and squirming till the blankets are up around their shoulders. He settles down heavily on Bucky’s chest and then slithers his arms around Bucky’s torso in a tight embrace that makes Bucky choke up.

He doesn’t even _try_ not to cling back, turning his face so it’s pressed into Tony’s throat as he takes deep shuddering breaths that he can’t even pretend aren’t wet with tears. Tony makes a soft sound and then tangles his fingers into Bucky’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, shame sinking into him that he’s so thoroughly derailed this evening.

“Hey, no, you don’t have to apologize,” Tony murmurs, “believe me I’ve been tired before,” he says softly. “Did you ever hear about the time I almost died from palladium poisoning?” he asks lightly, and then before Bucky can respond, he dives into a story that, quite frankly _horrifies_ Bucky.

 _Why didn’t Pepper or Rhodey see it?_ he wonders, _why didn’t anyone fucking **notice?**_

By the time Tony has finished his story his voice is even rougher than before, but Bucky is calmer and though he’s embarrassed, he’s grateful that Tony didn’t make a big deal out of his emotional outburst.

Tony sits up, straddling Bucky’s lap without seeming to really notice it and stares at him for a long moment before biting his lip and asking hesitantly, “Does coming here stress you out?”

When Bucky frowns Tony shakes his head, “No, let me rephrase; does coming to the hotel make you anxious? There’s a lot of people and cameras and— I mean I know it bugs _me_ a little that someone might recognize me, but, how do _you_ feel about it?”

Bucky hesitates for a long moment and then nods slowly, “I don’t really enjoy it,” he admits. “It feels like we’re being judged and the cameras really don’t help my paranoia,” he admits frankly. “But what other option is there?” he says with a shrug. “My place isn’t big enough or well equipped for us, and if you’d stand out here, you’d _definitely_ stand out there.”

Tony nods slowly and traces the collar of Bucky’s T-shirt, a careful, thoughtful look on his face. “What if I told you I had a place that’s private and secluded and away from the city we could go to?” he asks cautiously.

Bucky bites at his lip, pondering it over, wondering if Tony’s offer is genuine or an attempt to give Bucky what he _thinks_ Bucky wants, regardless of if it’s what _Tony_ actually wants.

“I would say that sounds wonderful,” he admits slowly, “but would you feel comfortable being alone with me somewhere secluded?” he asks, “at least here there would be people to hear you scream if something...if I…” he coughs and averts his gaze, shame rising up again, “I don’t have control over when flashbacks or panic attacks happen.”

“ _Okay?”_

“Here, you can scream and someone will hear you if I attacked you while I was out of it. There, no one would know.”

He looks up and finds Tony staring at him oddly, almost like he’s trying not to laugh and then he smirks and shakes his head, “I have an AI and built in defense system that can take out a Chitauri space whale, should one ever decide to attack upstate New York, I think it can handle you if I’m in trouble,” he retorts with a grin.

Bucky is startled into a laugh and then nods, some of the tension sliding out of his shoulders. “Okay, well, then yea, it sounds wonderful sweetheart. How far is it outside the city?” he asks, already trying to figure out how he’s going to get there.

“About an hour, if I’m driving,” Tony jokes, teeth white and straight when he grins at Bucky. “But really, if neither of us feel comfortable here, then why keep coming?” he says with an elegant shrug. “I have a perfectly good cabin that just sits there empty 99% of the time, so we might as well put it to use.”

Bucky nods slowly, excitement trickling into his veins the more he thinks about the idea. “I...yea, yea ok,” he agrees, smile spreading slowly. “Would I be able to come see it before we do a scene? I’d like to see the setup and get a feel for where you’re comfortable having scenes before just diving in.”

Tony nods, “Definitely. "I have some things this weekend I can’t really get out of, for fear of swift and unfair retribution from Pepper, maybe we could skip our scene next week and I can drive us up so you can see it?”

Bucky nods thoughtfully, “That’ll work for me. Are you going to be ok if I want to make some changes? Just to make sure things are safe and ready for some of the things I have in mind?”

Tony looks intrigued by that and nods slowly, “I think that’ll be fine. You can tell me more about these things you’ve been planning while we’re there,” he says playfully, “Because I am intrigued.”

Bucky grins and rests his hands on Tony’s hips, “Whatever you like baby,” he croons sweetly, laughing, pleased, when Tony blushes and ducks his chin. Tony squirms in his lap for a moment and then settles, grinning softly down at Bucky as his fingers tangle in the worn cotton of his T-shirt.

“I could take next weekend off and we can go back up Saturday or Sunday and I can help you install whatever changes it is you want to make,” he offers, “I don’t know if you heard but I’m pretty handy,” he says jokingly.

Bucky strokes his hip and up his back, nodding and smiling softly, “That would be perfect sweetheart, thank you. I’ll see about getting off and then we can make plans for one of those days to go back up and get things set up.”

Tony nods in satisfaction, looking pleased with himself and Bucky can’t help but glow from the inside out at the way Tony smiles at him. They stare at each other a few more moments before shyness creeps back in and then they’re parting slowly.

Bucky offers Tony his clothes and packs up the duffel bag, his boots pairing oddly with his sweats, but it doesn’t really matter now that it’s dark and late. He hears rain of yet another humid summer storm pattering against the windows and sighs heavily as he shrugs on his jacket (the one without the hood goddamnit).

He has no doubt his shoulder will be aching by morning.

When they step into the elevator, Tony touches his elbow, grabbing his attention. “Can I give you a ride home?” he asks, “It just- it’s late and dark and raining and I’d like to be sure you get home safe,” he says earnestly, brown eyes softly pleading and if Bucky didn’t already know it, he’s certain now; he’d do _anything_ for that look.

“Sure,” he agrees, grinning when Tony looks deeply pleased. Tony shoves his hands into his pants pockets and rocks on his heels, grinning at Bucky like he’s just won something. He leans back against the wall and then shifts his weight so he’s leaning into Tony’s side a little, smiling softly when Tony leans back.

He follows Tony through the parking garage to where the Audi waits and climbs into the passenger seat, the buttery leather sighing as he settles in. Tony presses a button on the console and a moment later the car starts with a quiet purr of the engine.

Tony fiddles with the radio for a minute before landing on a classic rock station and then presses another button on the console and a few seconds later Bucky’s whole seat heats up. He’s heard about this, but never experienced one where it went all the way up into the shoulders and he can’t help but sigh and sink into it.

“Like it?” Tony asks with a grin as he revs the engine. “Designed that myself for those days when I had to drive post Avenging and everything hurt.”

“It’s nice,” Bucky agrees, wiggling deeper into the seat so his shoulder is more firmly pressed back.

Tony nods in agreement, “That it is Buckaroo, that it is. Hey, what’s your address?” he asks, pulling out of the parking space smoothly and accelerating slowly toward the gate. Bucky rattles it off and Tony nods, “J-Man, get me the best route?” he asks, and Bucky lifts a brow, wondering who he’s talking to when suddenly a crisp British voice replies, “Of course sir.”

Tony glances over and grins at his confusion, “J, say hi to Bucky,” he says as they pull out onto the street and the rain patters down on the windshield. The wipers start without Tony pressing a button and Bucky is starting to wonder if the car is magic—his father had created a flying car, so it stands to reason that a man who created a suit of armor that could fly could make a car as incredible as this one is.

“Hello Sergeant Barnes, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the British voice greets him politely.

“I, uh, just Bucky is fine,” he replies awkwardly, unsure of who he’s talking to or where to look.

“Jarvis is my artificial intelligence,” Tony explains as he cuts across three lanes of traffic with barely a glance. “Sort of like a computer butler.”

"My favorite descriptor," the voice says dryly, and Tony laughs softly.

Bucky nods slowly, “Um Jarvis, you knew who I was?” he asks, “how?”

“When Project Insight failed and HYDRA’s files were released to the public by Agent Romanoff, Sir captured yours and any pertaining to the Winter Soldier. We followed your digital trail through history and I made a study of you, determining whether you would be a threat to Mr. Stark.”

“And what did you determine?”

There’s a pause, as though the AI is hesitant to answer and Tony shoots him a wary look before turning his gaze back to the road.

“I determined that you were, at the time, 73.85% likely to cause extreme physical harm if Sir was to provoke contact. That likelihood has fallen to 23.178% and appears to be lowering with each time you spend together.”

Bucky’s brows rise and he barely notices that they’re in Brooklyn now.

“Interesting,” he murmurs, “what else do you know about me?” he asks curiously.

“I know that your favorite fruit is cherries and that you recently purchased a number of books from a local store on a variety of topics. It also appears that you go out of your way to make sure the homeless man in your alleyway is fed and that you enjoy going for long runs. Would you like to hear more?”

Bucky smiles and shakes his head, “No, that’s ok, thank you Jarvis. It’s nice to know you,” he murmurs, and oddly, it’s the truth.

“You as well sir,” the AI responds and damn, if he doesn’t sound pleased, like a real human would over a nice conversation.

The car falls mostly quiet, Queen playing in the background as they turn onto Bucky’s street. Tony steers the car toward the curb and then puts it in park, staring out the windshield as the rain falls.

“Thank you for the ride home,” Bucky murmurs, twisting in his seat a little to face Tony more fully. “And thank you, for earlier, I...I didn’t mean to...to be like that,” he finishes lamely.

Tony frowns softly as he looks over, “It’s fine Bucky, really, I get it,” he assures Bucky, “sometimes shit just... catches up to you out of nowhere and it hits harder than you expected it to,” he murmurs with a faraway look in his eye.

Bucky nods in agreement and then carefully reaches out and touches Tony’s forearm, “Still, I appreciate it. Tonight was incredible,” he breathes out, gaze intent on Tony. “You were perfect for me and I just want to thank you again baby.”

Tony’s cheeks look like they’re flushed in the low light of the street lamps, and he looks away as he nods, “You're welcome sir,” he murmurs roughly, teeth scraping over the swell of his bottom lip as he looks back up at Bucky.

Bucky’s gaze fixes on his mouth and he aches with the urge to lean in and kiss him, breath coming shorter when Tony stares back and leans in slightly, like he’s thinking the same thing.

A loud clap of thunder startles them both and Bucky falls back against the door, smiling awkwardly, “Right, well, I’ll talk to you later,” he says, cringing inwardly at how stupid it sounds.

Tony nods and gives him a half wave, “See you later,” he replies, smiling faintly.

Bucky forces himself to climb out and walk up the front stairs of his building, pausing in the entryway to look back, heart lurching when he sees that Tony is still sitting there watching him. He waves and grins and Tony waves back, and then he’s pulling away from the curb and the sleek silver Audi is gone, leaving him all alone in the dark, staring at where it’s taillights used to be.

The afterglow pulses behind his eyelids and he closes them, savoring the way it burns red, like a brilliant suit of armor gleaming in the sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saw this on Tumblr and I think it's a lovely idea--feel free to copy and paste into your own fics!!
> 
> Emoji Key for those who don't know what to say in the comments!
> 
> ❤ = you wish you could kudos again  
> 😭 = I got you right in the feels  
> 🔥 = this was so hot!  
> 🐰 = it’s so fluffy!


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